Living Among Giants
by monkeygirl77
Summary: She was adopted into the fold of Archangels and now she's learning how to be a fledgling again after the end of the war. She's got plenty of older angels to show her the way though. A new set of Guardians, a new home, and a present Parent, she's living among giants now.
1. Bullet

**I told you I had more things in the works with Akeela! I'm simply in love with her right now! This is going to be a series of drabbles and oneshots with her and her relationships with the other angels, Archangels, and her Parent. **

**If any of yall have something you want to see, drop me a word, thus far its a one word challenge sort of thing so if you have any ideas definitely drop them on my! :D**

* * *

"Yes, you may go play at the shore."

Lucifer watched the little fledgling dart off to the shallows, giggling happily with every step, kicking as she made it to the shoreline. The water splashed all over the place, soaking the bottom of her cinched robe. She loved playing in the shallows of the lake, kicking the water around, and she smiled as she danced around. He sat on the edge of a stump and watched her have her fun.

"Luci!" Akeela darted out of the water and tugged on his hand, "Will you play with me?"

"I would little one but I have to help Michael with the ranking ceremony later."

"Please Luci?"

Her little eyes widened, the tiny little lip jetting out, and the Second in Command of all heaven melted at the little fledgling's pout. She knew how to play them and she knew how to play them well. Though perhaps they were a bit indulgent too. Akeela was a good little fledgling and hardly asked for much, thus when she did ask for something, they usually granted it to her.

They simply adored her too much to say no. Most of the time. There was still some things there stuck to denying (like the time she had asked Michael if should could use a sword).

"Alright little one but only for a little while. We have to be at the ceremony at half passed noon."

"Do I have to go?"

"We've been over this, yes, you do have to go.", he took her little hand in his own and let himself be lead towards the shore, "Or did you forget what Michael said he would do if you tried to sneak off again?"

Akeela giggled again and swung his hand forward, "I like him!", he chuckled softly, "He'll be glad to hear that." She tugged him into the shallows and giggled excitedly when he lifted her off her feet and swung her up over his head, "Have you ever learned to swim?"


	2. Clutch

It was during the deepest parts of the night, during the rainstorms that hit Heaven before making their way to the Earth below, when the lightning would flash and the thunder would boom loudly into the nighttime darkness that she would wake up with a scream on her lips. The booming of the warriors fighting one another, of the graces colliding, swords colliding and the mass hysteria that followed flashing through her mind.

It was during those times that she would jump from her place in bed and run across the hall to the oldest brother's room.

He wouldn't wake, not completely, but his arm was always lifted for her to crawl under and he pulled her close as her little arms curled tightly around his.


	3. Cruelty

Akeela hopped up the steps of the Messenger Aerie, singing a tune to herself as she did, jumping up on the last step she skipped along and twisted between fast moving messengers as they went about their duties, skipping down to the atrium in the middle of the grand building, the aerie was built around it, a small garden to help calm the nerves after a busy day of swooping around to deliver heavens messages and prophetic thoughts to those on earth.

She tugged on a braid as she skipped along the path that lead to the center of the aerie, where her friend was waiting for her, they were going on a secret mission today and she was supposed to keep it to herself. She spotted him just ahead, leaning against a tree, and waved excitedly when he finally managed to see her coming down the path.

"Hello dearest friend."

"Hi Zave!"

"Did you bring it?"

She reached into the fold of her new cinched robe and produced the supplies he had asked her to bring. He eyed them all closely and smiled at a job well done. Akeela was the perfect one to bring on this self assigned mission he had taken up. She was fearless and knew how to fight if she needed to and wouldn't back down when she saw something that wasn't right.

He held out his hand to her, "Come on, we have to move quick, before anyone notices that your not in your class and I'm not doing my job."

"But you hardly ever do your job."

"And I intend to keep it that way."

The fledgling took his hand and they turned towards the other end of the garden, the part of the aerie that was nearly empty, it was the living quarters and where the Archangels office was. No one would be on this side at this time of day, except perhaps the Messenger himself, and so they tiptoed in front of the cracked door (Zaveriel had spied in through the crack and saw the Messenger leaning over his cluttered desk filling something out on a piece of aged parchment) and ran the rest of the way out the back end of the deserted living quarter halls.

Behind the aerie was the square, a gathering place for angels of all factions and choirs to comingle, it was like the Axis but less centered. Something akin to a human marketplace on Earth, stalls and various canvas roofed buildings lined the streets, but no one paid any mind to the fledgling and youngling darting around them towards the one place no one would dare to go near willingly.

Heaven was a bright place, full of love and peace, or at least it was getting there. But even they had their dark places, and this was one of them, a looming building built like a medieval prison was the Oubliette. It was designed to torture the mind, whoever went in hardly ever came out, and if they did they never came out the same as they went in. Great horrors were inflicting in that place, and there was one prisoner, one prisoner and his friend who was due to being freed.

"Why are we going in here? I don't like it."

"Don't tell me your scared."

"Im not scared!", though even as she said it she pressed closer to his side and her grip tightened on his fingers. The messenger angel stopped at the bottom of the rising steps and turned to kneel in front of her.

"Do you remember me telling you about my friend?"

She nodded, "You said that they were really mean to him. Like when they caught me sneaking through the Heart Hall.", it was a bit more then that but he spared her the nasty details of the situation.

Zaveriel nodded, "And we're going to rescue him."

"How?"

"Im glad you asked.", he reached into the satchel hanging from his shoulder and pulled out two little daggers, like the ones she had gotten to use down on earth that one time, and held them out to his young friend, "With these."

"How did you get them!"

"You could say I borrowed them. But if Michael ever asks don't ever say my name."

She mimed zipping her lips, "Snitches get stitches."

"Right you are."

"What's your friends name and can I kick people?"

He stood back up, gripping his own short blade tightly, taking her hand back into his "His name is Gadreel. And you can kick all the assholes you want."

"Good. I like kicking meanies."


	4. Discipline

"Go stand in that corner."

Akeela's eyes watered and she latched onto the Healer's emerald robes, her lower lip quivering, she hadn't met to hit the other fledgling he had just been so mean, saying so many mean things about her big brother.

"But Rapha, I didn't mean it!"

He pointed towards the corner of his office, giving the little fledgling a stern look, as he repeated himself, "Go stand in the corner."

"No! Please big brother! He was being mean!"

"Do not make me say it a third time."

He had of course heard what had been said, but he wouldn't tell her that, they were trying to break this nasty habit of attacking people who said or did mean things to her or those she cared about. It was a good quality for one to be as loyal as she was, but when that turned to violence, that was when one must put their foot down. Raphael knew of course that the little fledgling child was sorry for her wrongdoing, but what lesson would it be if she was not punished for it.

Little tears tracked down her cheeks as he bent to pry her little fingers from the bottom of his robes and pointed once more to the corner, "Go, you have three minutes.", though the time was short, it was enough to get the point across. The little fledgling had indeed been through a lot and had seen a lot from the war they were recovering from, and they did not resort to physical punishment when the duty was needed, the corner was suitable enough, she hated being sent to the corner.

She wrapped her little arms around herself and shook her head, stubbornness is what got her into trouble most of the time, and he turned her towards the corner, "The time does not start until you are standing there."

"But Raphaaa!"

Her whine was pitiful and it forced him to steel his resolve let he crumble to the tears that soaked her once bright voice.

"Little one."

Perhaps a small use of the pet name she had been gifted would lessen the stern blow she had been given, he was touched that she would stand up for him like she had, but to resort to punching someone in the face was something they would come to put a stop to eventually.

And until then she would go to the corner.

Their little fledging choked of a soft little sob and stepped forward to stand in her corner. He sat behind his desk, sifting through different files and manuscripts, switching between them and watching the shivering little back of their fledgling. It broke him up on the inside knowing that he had caused her such sorrow but he also knew there was no way she was going to learn such lessons as the ones they were trying to teach her.

The three minutes passed in no time, though it most probably seemed like an eternity to the little mouse, and he leaned back in his chair.

"Okay little one, you can come out."

Akeela jumped around, rubbing a little fist over her teary eyes, and ran from her corner towards him, jumping around his desk to climb up into his lap. The favorite part after such a long punishment was the after, when she got to be cuddled close and they would hold her until she was ready to be set back down. She sniffled and curled closer to the large Healer, rubbing at her eyes again, warm fingers softly pulled her little fist away and wiped away the tears.

"Hush little one, it's alright now, you're forgiven."

"I'm sorry big brother."

"I know little Akeela, I know, though it's not me your owe the apology to."

Her little face scrunched up, sorry that she had hit her brother but not sorry enough to apologize; he had still deserved it. Raphael hummed deep in his chest and tilted her head up with a knuckle under her chin.

"Akeela we've told you many _many _times that you should only get them back if they get you first. Do you like standing in the corner?"

She shook her head, her little almond shaped eyes watering again at the thought of being sent back, and he curled his arms around her to relay that she was not leaving him embrace any time soon, he needed it just as much as she did.

No one liked sending her to the corner.

"No Rapha."

"Then what are we going to do?"

Her little sniffle made his heart melt slightly, "Say sorry."

"And?"

"Not hit people even if they deserve it."

It was the best he was going to get and he knew it, Akeela was the most stubborn fledgling he'd ever seen, and he's seen quite a lot of fledglings in his time, and let her curl in close in the folds of his robes. Brushing a hand down the back of her head he hummed again. A calming melody that relieved the fledglings nerves of their tension.

"Go to sleep little one, you could use a bit of a nap."

"But only old angels take naps."

"I take naps."

"I know."

He shook his head in amusement as she curled against him, and despite her protests, her eyes were slowly drifting closed as she was exhausted at the whole corner debacle.


	5. Happiest

Their fledgling was happiest when they could all gather together in the garden; whether it be for midday meetings or calm mornings or to watch the moon rise at night. She was happiest when they could all be together again after a long days work. When she could curl up against her choir master and sip from a shared mug of warm mint and lavender (or whatever concoction it was that day) or list listen to one of the Messengers many stories of his time with the pagans (though child proofed of course because of little ears) or lay on the eldest's chest as he told her stories of the stars. She was happiest when they could be a little family during those quiet moments together in their garden.


	6. Immortality

"Daddy! Aunt!"

She pushed her way through the guards half attempts to stop her from entering, it was more so out of fun then actual halting her at this point, He turned from His conversation with His Sister, they were in the process of creating a new universe outside of their own, one that they would build together.

"Yes My little angel?"

He bent slightly to lift her into his lap, smiling at the brightness to her eyes when she turned to look up at Him, He had really created a masterpiece when it came to this particular Fledgling. It was no wonder His oldest son's were so taken with her.

"You're really older, aren't you?", she grinned up at Him with a spark of true curiosity and a tad of mischief (she had been taking to Gabriel's _teachings_ a little too well and it was a dangerous mix with her already playfully mischievous personality) and His eyes narrowed when His Sister laughed behind Her hand, "How old are you!", Sister was laughing at Him now, not even trying to hide it behind Her hand anymore, and He looked down to His (perhaps) favored fledgling in the last flock of them (He wasn't meant to have favorite and loved all of His children equally but He was a bit more fond of this one in particular).

"Why do you ask, little one?"

She grinned up at Him cheekily, "Cause Zaves said that you're older the Uncle and I said he was wrong."

"Did you now?"

"Yep, cause your whiskers don't look gray and only old people have gray whiskers."

"Do they?"

"That's what I said Daddy, but Zaves said that You don't have grays cause You can make sure You don't and that you're older then ancient. You're…You're…..I don't know what word he used anymore but he said is was older the ancient."

He hummed, rubbing a hand down the back of her head, "Perhaps I will have to see you older brother for myself, of course, to settle this argument between the pair of you."

"No, it's okay. We agreed at the end."

Sister was laughing again, "You _are _old Brother."

He glared, playfully though, at the two of them. Akeela giggled when a finger poked her in the belly.

"Perhaps I should show you how truly _old _I am, My little fledgling."


	7. Lesson

"What if I fall?"

Gabriel looked down at the little nugget clutching at his leg, eyes watering with fear as she met his gaze head on, her fearlessness seemed to cover all but learning an angels most important method of transportation.

Listening to her cries as her wings came in broke all of their hearts, and now it was time to teach her how to use them, and it made his grace dim slightly at the fear that shined in those normally bright eyes.

"Then I'll catch you."

"But what if you miss? You're not as young as you used to be!"

He narrowed his eyes, "Did you just call me old?", she finally cracked a small smile and gave a nervous little giggle, hardly the fledgling he knew, and he set his hand on her head in a comforting way, "If I happen to miss you if you fall then Raph will make you all better again and give me one of his longwinded lectures."

"They are really boring."

"I'm so telling him you said that."

The Messenger swooped her up into his arms, spreading his own magnificent golden wings out in the breeze, she watched him stretch and copied him, spreading her own little starry wings just like he had. He smiled at her mimicking and lowered his wings, watching as she copied him.

"Can you feel the breeze in your little wings?"

Their fledgling nodded watching her dark feathers rustle in the breeze. Gabriel set her on her feet and took both of her hands in his, "Now do as I do."


	8. Revealing

"I don't like you."

He turned to look at the fledgling sitting on the table, leaning back on her hands, kicking her legs back and forth. Her glare could put her masters to shame, and it was solely focused on him.

"You don't know me."

"I don't need to. I know what you do. And so I don't like you."

"Akeela."

The elder's tone was soft as he called her name out in warning, working on mending the demon poisoned wound on the hunters leg, she ignored him and stared still at the other angel.

"You hurt a lot of people, you're a meanie, and you don't even care."

"I care more then you know.", he waved away her words and made to turn around again to watch the archangel tend to his charge, "You are young and do not understand."

"I know plenty!"

Her boots made a soft thump as she jumped down from the table, her little fists clenched at her sides, and Castiel was immediately reminded of that day months ago when she plowed her foot into his shin.

A dark finger pointed at the fledgling halting her in her tracks, "Don't you dare kick him.", it flicked back towards the table, "You sit right back on that table."

"I wasn't gonna kick him."

"Akeela."

"Only a little bit."

_"__Akeela."_

She heaved a sigh much too big for a fledgling of her size, "I was gonna kick him."

"That's what I thought.", he was nearly finished pulling the poison from the wound so that it may heal safely, "You come stand next to me. And you had better not punch him on your way over."

"I wasn't gonna punch him neither!"

"Little one."

"Big brother."

It finally drew him away from what he was doing, and electric blue eyes turned to her, a finger moving in such a way that indicated she had better comply and meet at his side.

"Do you want to go stand in that corner?"

"I'm coming! Don't get your robes in a wad!"

Dean Winchester laughed at the look that flashed upon the archangels face when the little girl bumped into his side, it was the look that all older siblings wore at some point in their lives.

"I was only gonna punch him a little bit."

"I _know _you would have punched him a _little _bit."


	9. Sauna

It was a bright day of rest, the sun shining uninhibited above them all, baring down on them a heated blanket that nothing seemed to relieve them of despite laying in the shallows of the lake in their garden. The little fledgling sighed heavily, sitting up in the call water, and it swarmed around her waist.

"I'm hot."

"We all are nugget."

She ignored the Messenger and watched her choir master lazily swoosh as the water. He was perhaps the only one not bothered by the heat. She watched his fingers, as little intricate designed of frost glowed lightly on the water before being washed away by a soft rise of a little wave.

He was cool.

Akeela pushed herself up, dripping water on the Messengers face, and he scrunched his eyes closed to wipe away the droplets. He turned to watch the fledgling wade over to the where Morningstar was resting on the in the shallows in a much more comfortable state then they were. He had his eyes close, one arm draped over his stomach, humming under his breath a mindless tune.

A smile split his face, a laugh breaking from him, when the little fledgling simply flopped herself down on him. He opened his eyes in surprise and gave a heave when the air was suddenly blown out of his chest.

Akeela made herself comfortably, making it so she was pressed mostly against him, dragging his arm over her shoulders, and settled down just under his collar bone.

He chuckled, "Akeela?"

"You're cool."

Lucifer chuckled again and wrapped his other arm around her, pulling her in closer, he was indeed cooler then the others were. She sighed in comfort and cuddled in closer. Gabriel sat up, watching them slack jawed, "Now that's just not fair."

No one answered him until the little voice piped up from curled against the Morningstar's chest.

"Life isn't fair."


	10. Stalked

It was by accident that they found out. Akeela was well versed in taking care of herself, she had practically raised herself on her own for nearly a thousand years, and though she had bigger angels she could rely on now, archangels at that, it was a hard habit to break to go to others for help. She was a good fighter and as tough as they come, ready to jump back at the opponent when they made their first move, she had promised to act only when acted upon and she didn't break promises.

They had been following her for a while, staying back in her shadow, as she skipped around the Heart Hall and down the cart laden Axis Mundi. They made comments to each other under their breath that was just loud enough for her to heard, and they went ignored, she couldn't get them for merely saying mean things because that got her sent to the corner and she didn't like going to the corner.

So she ignored them and hummed a merry tune to herself to drown out their whispering, until the other boy joined them, there problem was (she thought to herself) that they didn't like getting their butts handed to them by someone half their age.

Their voices were familiar, she knew them well, she would remember anyone who had done her wrong. It was just an engrained skill from living through the great war, always remember those who wrong you so they may never do so again, and so she listened for any sudden moves and continued on her merry way.

She made her way down to the training fields, Michael hadn't arrived yet from midday break, and she sat on one of the stone benches to wait for him. Though she wasn't allowed to practice with swords yet he always let her watch the others (and Nisroc let her practice with his daggers when Michael was preoccupied elsewhere) while they trained.

The fledgling was all alone on the training field, the others having left for midday as well and no one was due back until the sun shifted to west in its beginning stages of slowly setting. It was the perfect time to get her, and they made their attack, the biggest boy shoving her from behind back into the dirt.

Her palms and knees skidded across the pebble strewn dirt as she caught herself, tearing at the skin and little pebbles getting trapped in the scratches and cuts that littered her little palms and knees now.

Immediately though, despite the tears forming in her eyes, she spun around. Paul glared at her as he climbed over the bench, Nathanael and Brachial flanking him.

"You made me look like an idiot in front of all the warriors!"

She crawled back, knowing when to pick and choose her battles, she was strong but not nearly strong enough to face three older kids all on her own. It was only in this moment that she had the feeling she probably should have told someone about them following her for weeks.

"You got us in trouble!"

Nathanael and Brachial were marching at Paul's side now, looming over her like hungry hyenas going in for the kill. The warrior in training pulled his sword from the sheath at his side and twirled it around with skill, it was cowardly to attack someone who was unarmed, but what no one else knew didn't hurt him.

She gasped, curing her arms around her head as she ducked down, when he swung the sword around. It clashed loudly with something, and she peeked out from under her arms to see the bigger specially crafted sword that ever Power carried with them right before her eyes, and had never been so happy to see another older angel in her young life.

Nisroc looked unusually stern, eyes darkened as he parlayed the cowardly frontal attack, and she looked up to see the terrified gazes of her attackers as they backed away in horror. Perhaps not horror at the realization of what they had intended to do, beating a young fledgling like they had wanted, but more so that they had been caught.

"I would _not _try another time."

His voice was deeper then she'd ever heard it, rumbling like a volcano did before it was about to erupt, he was not kidding when he had said that she was as much a Power as they were. She may be too young to join but that did not mean they wouldn't protect her like she was one of their own. She turned to look at him again, flinching slightly as he pushed the smaller blade away and retracted his own without noticeably putting it away, almost daring the youngling in training to try again. Behind him, coming up to his left shoulder was another Power, glaring at the other boys, touching a hand lightly to the lieutenants shoulder as he stepped passed to kneel before the shaking fledgling.

"Are you okay little warrior?"

She nodded her head, eyes still wide in surprise, last she had seen she was alone on the training field and yet they were here anyway. Haniel smiled at her kindly and held out a hand for her to take, helping her back to her feet. They walked around Nisroc to flank his shoulder. The leader of the Power's smiled at her as she passed before returning his dark glare to the three boys.

"You will be coming with us. Commander Michael will be made aware of this unwarranted attack on an unarmed fledgling. I would pray to Father that he is in a lenient mood today."

He motioned for Haniel to step behind him to flank them to ensure they did not attempt to escape while they were marched to their doom, shivering in terror at facing the eldest archangel and his red-hot anger. Michael was level headed most of the time, gentle and softly playful with most of anyone, until someone managed to tip the scales in the other direction.

Attacking his favorite fledgling would not doubt be a sure way to tip those scales in unwanted fashion.

Nisroc turned, leading them back to the Pavilion where the other Powers had gathered to witness their young warrior almost meet the end of a sword unprovoked, scooping her up in one quick motion as he passed where Haniel had left her standing, settling her on his left arm as he finally put his sword away.

"And you little warrior, he will want to know how long this has been going on, did they follow you here?"

"They follow me everywhere."

He turned to look at her in alarm, and threw a glare over his shoulder for a moment before looking back to the fledgling sitting on his arm, "They follow you? Why did you not saying anything?"

"Because I could handle it."

One look at her palms and knees showed just how young she was, she had learned to defend herself during the war, those times called for those measures, but it showed that she was still untrained and thus easy prey for those like the ones they lead to the Archangel's office. Michael had been present the entire time, working on things between Faction leaders, completely unaware of what was unfolding in the training fields underneath him.

"I don't doubt that little warrior, but the best part of being on a team is that you do not have to fight alone, if this happens again and you don't want to go to Michael then come to me. Come to any of us. We have got your back as I have no doubt you would have ours."

He knew it was a lot to ask for from the strong willed fledgling, though she had lived with the choir for thousands of years, she had only really relied on herself and that included defending herself from those that had meant to harm her. Asking her to come to them for help was nearly as impossible as the moon trading places with the sun, but perhaps they stood a better chance of avoiding another moment like these if she knew that they were there for her to come to if she needed them. She was a fledgling after all and deserved to have the best fledglinghood that she could, despite the rough beginning.

"Promise me?"

There was no way for him to no she would do as he asked them to make her promise him.

"I promise. Cross my heart." A beat of silence followed "Do we really have to tell Michael?"

"I'm afraid so little warrior."


	11. Uncle

Akeela shrieked as the evil fingers assaulted her belly again, poking at her sides until she could do nothing but giggle up a storm, she tried to kick her attacker away but long fingers curled around her ankle and a kiss was pressed to her little toes.

"Did you try to kick me again little one?"

He bent back over her, fingers poised over her belly once more, and she giggled in anticipation.

"Be careful little one, when you answer."

The fledgling shook her head quickly, little braids whipping around lightly, and he smiled down at her.

"I don't believe you."

And those fingers made their attack.


	12. Mistake

"I messed up."

Is not how someone wants to start their day. It was supposed to be a day for rest and Gabriel did not want to go and fix something, let alone actually move from the warm patch of warm sunshine. Akeela was tugging at the end of her little robe nervously and he heaved a tired sigh.

"What happened?"

"Well Zaves said that Castiel had been mean to him because he refused to help him get one of the factions to do something and I think I broke his nose."

Gabriel stared at her in mild surprise, clearly not having been expecting that, and slowly sat up.

"What did he want the faction to do?"

Akeela shrugged nervously, "I don't know. I already don't like him and then Zaves said he was being mean and Zaves is my friend, so I punched him. I wasn't going to say anything cause I don't wanna go to the corner but its bleeding bad."

The Messenger pulled himself up and got to his feet, reaching out to take her little hand in his own, letting her lead the way.

"I'm sorry to say that you still have to go to the corner when we come back."

She gave a soft whine, "Would you believe me if I said I was just joking?"

"Not on your life."


	13. Smallest

It was quite the sight to see, on their days of rest, the four Archangels out and about from their garden with the little fledgling with them, or perhaps when they took her down to earth to see what there was to see down there. They stood very tall, the tallest angels that Heaven had to offer, and the fledgling was absolutely tiny compared to them. Their hands dwarfed hers and she could barely wrap her fingers around their whole palm so she just took to holding onto their fingers. She liked to ride on their backs, perch on their kip, or sit on their shoulders because up there she could see everything.


	14. Replacement

Akeela was used to angels coming and going in her life, she had never stayed in one place herself, thus was the way during a war that they'd been through, and was used to seeing knew faces nearly every other day. So when she went to visit her big brother as they neared midday break and saw the other fledgling walking around with him, holding his hand like she did, she couldn't help but stop in her tracks.

She hopped up the last step and came to a halt at the sight of the other little pale fledgling that was perched on _her _big brothers arm. The young fledgling shook herself out of her thoughts and skipped down the rows to meet her big brother in the center.

The tall Archangel turned at her appearance and smiled down at her as she approached, "Hello little one."

"Hi big brother.", despite the unfamiliar fledgling taking up her spot she still maintained her bright disposition. The other fledgling stared down at her, unsure as to how to act around the fledgling who clearly knew the archangel he had befriended during his visit. "Can I help you today?"

Raphael sighed "I would be more then happy to have your help little one", he smiled at the young fledgling kindly and gestured toward the one he was carrying on his arm "But I think Adonai wants to help me today."

"But I always help you on Tuesdays."

"I know little one but we should let Adonai help today."

It sort of dimmed her mood but she nodded, and turned to step out, not bothering to skip or hop like she usually did, not happy that her helping was being taken over by another person that she didn't even know. As if sensing the fledglings poor mood, one of the other healers kneeled down as she passed. Orin smiled at her and reached out to lightly touch her arm.

"It's okay little one, he still adores you, the little guy was just frightened."

Akeela tugged her arm free and glared at the healer, "I don't like him."

She stomped softly down the stairs, turning to stick her tongue out at the grand infirmary, and turned back around to storm off. She would go see another sibling then, help them get their duties done, the one next to the infirmary was the aerie and soon she was skipping along to help the Messenger with his duties instead.

Gabriel would never turn her away.

Her friend met her at the entrance of the aerie, digging through his satchel, Zaveriel smiled at her as she approached and took note of her soured mood but choose not to comment on it.

"Here to help?"

She nodded and looked up at him with dim eyes, "Will he let me?"

The messenger tilted his head in confusion, "Why wouldn't he? Don't you usually hang out with Raph on Tuesdays?"

"I wanna help Gabriel instead."

He stared at her for a moment, "Weeeeell okay then, come on he's in his office getting stuff he needs, I'll take you.", she smiled and took his hand. Gabriel had been more then happy to let her come along with him and they worked together. They finished up just at the sun started to set in the west and the Messenger carried her on his shoulders as they walked back to the garden. Michael and Lucifer were already there, sitting on the steps of their home talking softly to each other, pausing their conversation to greet their brother and fledgling, Akeela squirmed to be put down and pulled herself up to sit on Michael's knee. The larger angel adjusted his position to allow her a more comfortable place to sit, and she thanked him with a kiss to the side of his chin and settled back against his chest instead, pulling his arm around her.

Gabriel chimed into their conversation and the fledgling was left to entertain herself with the biggest archangel hand that rested against her belly, bending the fingers this way and that freely as she pleased.

The gate chimed shut at the entrance of the last archangel, she took notice almost immediately that there was no sight of the other fledgling, but that meant little to nothing. She ignored him as he entered and greeted them all.

The oldest archangel took notice of her silence following the greeting sent in her direction and turned to peer down at the little choir angel with furrowed brows.

"Are you not going to return our brothers 'hello' ?"

"Nope."

Michael hummed softly, wondering if this had anything to do with the little fledgling his brother had allowed to help him for the day, and pat her belly softly.

"And why ever not?"

"Cause I don't like him now."

Raphael tilted his head slightly in confusion until it seemed to dawn on him what seemed to be the problem. They all knew that Akeela had been on her own for nearly most of her fledglinghood, and despite having been surrounded by her choir, they were all older then her and the war had changed even those who managed to hide away from it. Of course she would be upset if it looked as though someone was taking her place, they were the first ones she had actually trusted to come to regularly, it was the signs of childlike jealousy at its finest.

"You don't like me now?", he allowed his tone to take on a sadder note, let her know how her words could affect people, though he believed she already knew what her words could do "Why ever not?"

She turned away from him and huffed, refusing to look over or answer, and the others looked at their fledging in surprise as it was unlike her to be so moody at those she didn't consider to be 'meanies'. She was just throwing a small tantrum without all the grandeur throwing around and stamping of feet. Michael hummed again and lifted her from his lap to his standing brother.

"Perhaps our fledgling needs reminding of just how much you care for her."

Akeela pushed against the Healers shoulders when he scooped her up but his grip remained strong and she gave another small huff and instead looked up to look at the starry sky.

She gave a small shriek and fell into giggles when he pressed a kiss to the tender skin of her neck, scrunching up her shoulders to try and keep him out, eyes immediately brightening when he managed another kiss under her ear.

"I believe you are right older brother, I should remind our fledgling just where she stands, and thus we take our leave."

They bid them a good night and listened to her fading giggles as they disappeared inside their home to the Healers room.

"She's really going to get it, isn't she?"

"Oh yes." Michael smiled knowingly "He will take good care of her."


	15. Abusive

Akeela shuffled in closer to her friend as they ventured deep into the looming prison, despite her excitement that she got to have the two daggers again and that she could kick as many people as she wanted to, it was still scary to be there and she wanted to go back despite herself and hide behind her biggest brother until it was all better again.

But he had asked her to come on this special mission and she wouldn't let him down, Zaves needed her to be strong and be strong she would be, even if she was rightfully terrified. The moaning of the angels locked in the cells made her jump every time they passed one but Zaves tightened his grip on her hand and they continued on as if nothing could stop them.

They came to a door on the far end of the hall, she scrunched up her face at the weird noises that were coming from inside, "I cant promise what youre about to see won't give you nightmares."

"That's what I got Luci for."

He smiled at her honesty, there was no one better to scare away nightmares then an archangel, she was just lucky they were so taken with her.

"That's a good point. They wouldn't dare stand against him."

"Right."

He gripped the hilt of his short sword and looked down to her with a certain amount of seriousness, her eyes stared back up at him with a certain level of readiness. They were both battle hardened from the war and were ready to face whatever was waiting them beyond this door.

A scream that came from within only made them harden their resolve even more. Who ever this angel was, he was Zaves friend and as his best friend it was up to her to help him free his other friend.

"Are you ready monkey?"

She nodded, bending slightly where she stood, ready to spring on whoever dared try and stop her. Though she was small, she was also mighty, and could stand head to head with the best of them. She was skilled in that she used her height and youth to her advantage, and fought like there was no tomorrow, and sometimes just a bit dirty.

You had to fight dirty in war.

Zaveriel gripped the door handle tightly and closed his eyes, if his young friend was ready for this, then he had to be too.

He threw open the door.

The only thing on his mind was getting to his friend strapped to the table. From beside him, fearlessness a strong shield against those who meant to frighten you, Akeela jumped forward, darting for the table keeping the other angel prisoner. She cut through them with a well trained ease, it was saddening really, that a fledgling knew how to cut people down before they knew how to fly.

What was the price of war.

Everything they were now was revolved around the war that had ruled over half their lifetime. Theo shouted for more of his guards to stop them, but Akeela ducked, tripping one up in a maneuver Zaveriel hadn't seen since he himself was a fledgling playing in the garden outside of Father's Throne Room, where all the fledgling stayed to grow.

Until it was destroyed.

He watched her for a moment, she was really a sight to behold, and he knew why the Power's joked about her being one of them despite how young she was for it to be officially official.

The moment was quickly concluded when he jumped in to parlay the swipe that was aimed for her. She ducked under their leg and slashed their tendon with the smooth blade of her dagger and the other angel fell over with an anguished cry.

"Are you okay?"

"I wanna kick the big one."

She looked up with a fire burning in her eyes, glaring hard at Theo across the room, he had curled his whip in his hand and glared right back. The young messenger had heard the rumors of a young choir angel being caught, the lashing that had followed, and he couldn't help but stare at his young friend in horror.

"It was you!"

Akeela ignored him, her resolve as hard as stone, as she stared at the Warden Angel across the room. Red blood was dripping down the angels back who had faced the tail end and she huffed in anger. She would remember that face anywhere. Remember that mean smile. Remember those dark eyes.

She would remember _him _anywhere and everywhere she went.

"I want the whip." Was the only warning he got before she darted forward, she slashed her way through the remaining guards, leaving him to be torn from his thoughts and follow. She was tiny but she was mighty and he was honored to have her fighting by his side for this.


	16. Melodramatic

"I think I'm dying."

They all chuckled in various degrees as the fledgling flopped down dramatically on the grass of the part of the garden they sat in today. The third archangel set his book down to watch the fledgling dramatically drop herself over his legs.

"And why are you dying?"

"This is so boring! I was Zaves was back cause then it'd be fun."

The Messenger snorted, "Fun for you two maybe. Who would you prank?"

She giggled and hid her face behind her hands, they smiled and went back to what they had been doing, until three minutes later when she sighed deeply again. The Commander looked up from his own book and closed it. The Morningstar chuckled softly from behind her. He knew the little fledgling well.

"What now, little one?"

"This is boooooring!"

She stuck her tongue out and fell still as if she had in fact died, up until the Healer poked her in the belly, to which she squeaked and curled slightly.

"Why don't we play a game then?"

His brothers seemed to catch on to his train of though and agreed with his idea, "We can play hide-n-seek and we'll come look for you."

"That sounds like fun!"

She jumped up to her knees and he poked her belly again, setting his book aside, and helped her climb to her feet.

"You can have your fun and if we catch you we get to have our fun, deal?"

"Deal! Gotta count!"


	17. Hate

A red hot anger welled up inside her at the sight of the thing, the thing that had lashed into her skin all those years ago, it had left its mark as both a physical and mental lesson. Never again would she allow herself to be weak enough to be caught by it. Never again would she feel the sting.

Zaveriel was at her side as she bolted, he was the best friend a fledgling could ask for, and together they easily cut through the guards as they came at them, leaving them a bloody and semi unconscious pile on the floor.

Only one had managed to make their escape and they were sure it would come to bite them in the butt later, but right now they both had different goals in mind. Gone was the thought to help her best friend free his friend, gone was everything, the only thing that circled around in her entire being was to get her hands on that whip.

"You remember me, little rat?" Theo smiled at her, tauntingly, "Are you back for more so soon?"

Zaveriel screamed in rage, having made it to his friends side on the table and caught sight of his shredded back and at the thought that it was his best friend that the rumor was about. That the rumor was based on truth and this _monster _had dared to even lay an ill meant hand on two of his greatest friends. He screamed and spun, throwing the knife he had under his belt, he had the best aim out of his entire flock and the weapon met its mark in Theo's left shoulder.

The Warden screamed in pain and anger and raised his hand with the whip, intending to bring it down on the angel who dared think to raise a hand against him. But it didn't get far, and was pulled taught, silence filled the room at the one who managed to capture the whip before the lash could be delivered. Even on the table, the prisoner (_'Gadreel'_ she reminded herself) looked over in surprise to see that a tiny little fledgling such as herself had managed to catch it and keep him from pulling it back.

The young messenger stared with his friend at the pair, even Theo was stunned silent, but Akeela was ready. She was always ready. She had promised Nisroc and Haniel that she would come to them if she needed help, and she may need help now, but this..? This was personal to her and she would do it on her own just like she did everything else.

You didn't survive by relying on others to do the work for you.

That was a lesson she was taught well and taught at an early age.

She used the moment to her advantage, daggers tucked into the belt cinching her robes, she yanked as hard as she could manage on the thin leather whip. It sliced into her hand and she hissed at the pain, but the desire to have the whip for herself was too great to let go of it now.

Zaveriel used the moment to his own advantage, cutting the ropes keeping his friend secured, he tugged him as gently as he could to his feet and called over his shoulder for the fledgling to follow as he hobbled as quickly as he could with the older angel practically hanging over him.

"Akeela lets go!"

"In a minute!"

The fledgling stared down at the whip, as it was pulled from the Warden's hand in his shock. This was the thing that had torn into her back, it had made her cry like she had never cried before, and left its permanent reminders on her skin.

It had nearly ruined everything.

She had stopped sneaking out for nearly a month and would have not have gotten to see her best friend before he was placed into another legion.

Her fingers curled around the wrapped end, the handle of the long whip, and she looked back up at the one who had so cruelly taken it to her and pulled her arm back.

Zaveriel watched her from the doorway, eyes wide, his friends peering under his soaked hair at the tiny fledgling that swung the whip as hard as she could and struck the Warden across the face. It left a thin red line, a cut from the bottom of his left cheek to the outer tip of his right eye. How the little thing had managed to get the whip around with such accuracy, the thing having to be at least one and a half longer then she was in length, was beyond them. But hatred was a good motivator.

"Do I remember you?", they weren't sure what was more frightening; the calmness the fledgling had about her as she swung the whip back around to lash another stripe into him or the way his shriek of pain only made her swing it harder, "I remember you!"

Zaveriel retreated as Theo tried to run for the door, the whip lashing another stipe across the back of his shoulders, the little one running after him as fast as she could. The Warden stumbled as he was continuously assaulted by the fledgling.

They tumbled out of the door of the Prison, Zaveriel struggling under the weight of his friend, and Theo stumbling to the ground as the fledgling continued to assault him with his own weapon.

"I remember crying!", she swung it back again, "I remember begging you to stop! And you only laughed!", Theo screamed as the whip lashed him again and again, and he curled up on himself to try and stave off the hits to his face. "You did it again and again and again! And I couldn't do anything!"

Zaveriel would have dropped under the weight of his friend had the large dark hands not taken most of the weight off from on top of him, and he turned to meet the gaze of the Healer as he pulled the wounded prison up into his side instead, bracing an arm around the angel's waist to keep him stable enough to not fall back.

The guard that had managed to escape had apparently gone to get the aid of the Commander and his Powers, the others must have noticed the younger angels absence because they came to investigate.

All eyes were focused on the fledgling whipping the Warden over and over again, as tears streamed down her face, reliving that day right then and there in the moment, and swung the whip with as much force as she could muster.

"I _remember _you! And you're going to remember _me_!" I'm not weak anymore! You won't get me again! I'll lash _you _this time!"

Every word was followed by a blow with the whip, until her little hand started shaking and the hits got sloppy, Theo whimpered and curled in on himself. Akeela felt herself wearing out, the adrenaline of her anger slowly dissipating into the wind, and it was starting to get hard to see because of the tears streaming down her face.

"You're the coward!"

A hand caught hers just as she was about to unleash another strike and she struggled against it, looking up to meet the blurry face of the one who stopped her from getting her well earned revenge.

"Let it go little warrior. He is not worth your tears. He is not worth your thoughts. Let it go now."

She gave a soft scream, it was bit back and nearly swallowed, but she shook her head. Everything was coming back now, it was raining, it was nighttime, she was going to see Zaves and a pair of hands had snagged her up, the mean laugh, the hands that held her in place and the _sting_. It was all coming back and it was getting too much for the little fledgling.

"_You did __**what **__to my fledgling?"_

She sucked in a shaky breath at that voice, she knew that voice, it was the voice of the one who comforted the bad dreams away and sang to her when she couldn't fall asleep. It was the voice that had taken here away from her instructors who were mean because they didn't _get _it. It was the voice that was _always _there. Her choir master was there and Theo was choking on his own breath. She wiped at her eyes haphazardly and saw the familiar blonde head as he lifted the Warden clear off his feet.

Nisroc was here. Haniel was there. Danial, Titus, Abraxos, Camael, Puriel, Raguel, they were all there. Michael was pulling Lucifer away from Theo and Gabriel was helping Zaveriel and Raphael get Gadreel away from there.

She looked up into Nisroc's eyes, they were sad and full of regret, Theo had been disgraced from the Power's when word had spread that he had whipped a fledgling angel.

The Power wasn't angry, he wasn't made, over his shoulder she could see Michael finally coaxing Lucifer into putting Theo down, Haniel was there when the Warden was set down to his feet and punched him in the face hard enough to crack the cheek bone and send him spiraling backwards to the ground. Michael made no move to reprimand him.

"Let me have it. Let it go little warrior. We are here now. Let us take it from here."

"He-He-He!"

There was that sadness again, "I know little warrior. Please, do you trust me?", Akeela sucked in a shaky breath and nodded, looking down at the big hand that was outstretched to her, and her fingers tightened around the handle of the whip as she held it out to deposit in his hand. His fingers curled around the handle and he passed it back to Titus, away from the reach of the broken fledgling.

Tears sprang to her eyes again and she leaned forward for the Power, Nisroc met her halfway and curled his arms around her small shaking frame, her sobs broke the gathered angels at the anguish that she held in through silent echoing agony.

He stood with her cradled close, Titus and Abraxos closing ranks around their leader and honorary fledgling Power, the others filling the crack in the ranks. Their leader closed his eyes, and the ones to her back closed theirs, when his fingers skimmed over the scars on her shoulders. Haniels knuckles popped as he clenched them in desire to punch the Warden again. Puriel and Camael looked away from them in pained silence. Raguel squeezed at his shoulder lightly in silent support.

They broke apart only when the Commander gave the soft command to do so, stepping into their protective circle, hands raised to take the fledgling from his Second in Command. Akeela easily transferred herself from the Power to her oldest brother. Michael held her close to him, pressing her softly into his shoulder, not speaking a word as she clung onto him and sobbed her little heart out.

"Nisroc, Titus, ensure that our traitor finds his way to his cell."

"But Sir-"

"I do not know the condition he is in now and I will expect a full report on the matter later."

It was a blanket permission of they ever heard one and Nisroc nodded to Camael and Puriel and they hefted the moaning Warden to his feet. Abraxos and Raguel stepped up behind them and together they ensured that their disgraced brother made it to the cell that was waiting for him.

Michael turned, getting the others back to their duties with a mere look, stroking the back of the fledglings head softly. They walked, he walked them down the steps of the Prison and away from it's looming darkness, and he whispered soft nothings into her ear when her sobs finally started to settle down.

"Oh my little one, you have suffered so much, and I am so sorry."

He rocked his arm slightly, not minding when a warm little nose pressed into the crook of his neck, he merely reached over to rub her cheek with his thumb.

"We will make it better. Just give us the chance to?"

Akeela sniffled pitifully and nodded softly, she was sleepy now, and wanted to just be held now. Michael was happy to accommodate her desires.

"Hush little one, I've got you, we've got you."


	18. Paranoia

"You told Dad what I said!" Akeela giggled at Zaveriel's panicked half screech and nodded "Yep. Daddy said He was going to come see you."

The young messenger felt panic well up in his belly and he ran his fingers through his shoulder length curly dark hair frantically, "Oh man, oh gosh, oh man! Why would you do this to me!"

"Because you told Gabriel that I was the one who put cream in his satchel when we both know it was you."

Zaves stared at the fledgling for a long silent moment, his eyes wide and mouth hanging open in shock, "You're a devious little fledgling, you know that?"

The little fledgling smiled up at him sweetly but he wasn't fooled in the slightest by it. Besides he was too caught up on the fact that she had told their Father that he had called Him older then old. If there was one thing no one every brought up ever, it was their Father's age, he couldn't remember the one who had been daring to say something last time and though he had an inkling in who the angel was he couldn't remember what had become of them.

Dad was a bit sensitive when it came to bringing up His age.

"Im dead. I am literally going to die. You've just signed my death warrant. You can have my plethora of goodies under my bed and fox pup I have hidden in my room. It was nice knowing you cruel cruel world."

It was only a matter of time, watching as his best of friends skipped away happy with what she had done to him, before his words came back to haunt him. For an entire week anything that came up on him made him jump in terror, any touch to his person brought about a shriek from the young messenger, he lived on egg shells for an entire week.

And then it all came crashing around him one fateful morning.

"Hello son."

Zaverial wasn't sure when he'd gotten all the way to the Throne Room, but he knew that his Father could only desire something and make it happen with a mere thought, Aunt was mysteriously missing from His right hand side and the guards at the door were closing it behind them. Father stood from His throne when the young angel tried to back away quickly, all messengers had to be quick, but He matched his panicked movements easily and soon snagged the young angel up by the scruff of his wings. Zaveriel prayed for mercy as he was lifted from his feet and Father sat him down on His lap upon returning to His Throne. A large hand curled around his stomach and he gave a soft nervous giggle while staring down at it.

"I hear you have questions about my age, young one, allow me to enlighten you."

When Gabriel noticed his second in command missing some twenty minutes after he was supposed to return to his office, he sought out the only one who would know where he could possibly be, hoping that they would merely tell him instead of him having to pry the information from them.

Akeela was sitting on the edge of the aeries ledge kicking her little legs back and forth, scribbling something on a piece of parchment, little tongue poking out the corner of her mouth.

"Nugget, do you know where Zaves is?"

"He's with Daddy."

Gabriel raised an eyebrow, last time he checked not even Zaveriel was ballsy enough to prank the Big Man, but then again his second was as predictable as the wind was, there was no telling what he was storing in mind.

"Why's he with the Old Man?"

"I told Daddy that Zaves had some questions about His age."

"You're a cruel little thing, you know that?"


	19. Uninformed

**HAHA its all good Robin0203! I gotchu! It's a bit separated but I gotchu!**

* * *

"What happened?"

Little Akeela knew there was something wrong with her best friend the moment she found him. He was curled in on himself, and sitting in one of the farthest corners of the grand Garden outside of Father's Throne Room, almost as if he were trying to hide away from the world. When it had gone through the first two hours and she hadn't found him she knew immediately to come here to find him. Her older friend always came here when something was wrong; he'd hidden here when Gabriel had abandoned them, when his flock was torn apart, when Gabriel had been declared a dead traitor, when all the shit had finally hit the fan.

The little fledgling sat on the grass in front of him, tucking her legs under herself as she settled down quietly, the young messenger didn't respond at first but she was patient. They told each other everything; he was the first to know that she had started staying with the Archangels regularly and she had been the first to know that his friend Gadreel's case was being reevaluated by the Archangels. He tugged on his robe, hissing as the sash curling around his left shoulder tightened, reaching up to curl his fingers around it as though trying to stave off the pain under them.

"You have to promise not to tell."

She looked up from plucking the little pieces of green grace, and nodded immediately, their friendship was built on trust and secrets that they shared, she knew better then to break a promise, it just wasn't in her nature.

"I swear."

Zaveriel smiled at her through the ache and tugged on the sleeve of his robe, it slid down and she gasped at the sight of the purple and blue bruise that painted his shoulder brightly. Quickly climbing to her feet the little fledgling made to touch it, freezing as though unsure for one of the rare moments of her lifetime, looking down to meet the pained gaze of her friend. Zaveriel was well like among the other choirs, but there was still some who thought the energetic young messenger was a bit too pampered and needed to be brought down a few pegs.

"You have to tell!"

"No! And you can't either! You swore!", he tugged the shoulder of his robe back up to hide the darkened wound, looking her in the eye as she sat back down in front of him, "Or I'll tell that you were the one who broke Castiel's wing!"

"You swore!"

"Then we reach a bridge, I'll keep your secret and you keep mine."

She bit her lip, surely she would be sent to the corner for nearly half her lifetime if the others ever found out that she knew and never said anything, but then her friendship with the messenger had been formed long before she had started practically living with the four oldest brothers.

And so against her better judgement she reached out with her pinky finger, "Deal.", they're pinkies locked and the matter was dropped. No one outside the two of them would ever be made aware.

"Who did it?"

Zaveriel sighed and brushed a hand through his shaggy hair, "You know Paul?"

"He's a jerk!"

The messenger nodded in agreement, "He seems to be under the impression that others have to bow to his will because he's a warrior in training."

Michael had not been pleased to hear of the threes attempt to harm the little fledgling he was so fond of, and seated her on his left arm as he reprimanded the three of them, it was a dressing down that they would remember for some time to come. From there they were released to their master, the Commander being Paul's handed him off the be dealt with by Nisroc. Rumor has it that Titus was quick in volunteering to spare with the young trainee at the mere assumption that he was high enough to try and attack their honorary Power unprovoked and unarmed. It was cowardly and they had no place among them for cowards. From that point on the young warrior trainee was moved from the advanced class he had worked his way into back to the first stages and his real sword was replaced with the worn wooden ones that the newest recruits used (just out of fedglinghood themselves it was on no ones mind to give them actual weapons untrained). Nisroc had made an example of them.

The same could be said about Nathanael and Brachiel, the Messenger hadn't been happy with their actions, and Zaveriel had told her once that he had gone unnaturally serious and dragged them into his office. The door had been shut for almost two hours before it was opened again. They had been quick in finding her in the Heart Hall to apologize. She never questioned what had made them have such a quick change of heart, it wasn't like she really cared, but Zaves had given rumors on what the Messenger was known to do when one of his flock members acted out like they had.

Zaveriel had only been pulled into his office once and made it a point to never return.

"Michael let Nisroc handle him. He was demoted back to the beginners level."

The messenger choked on a snort, "I can imagine that he wasn't happy about it."

"He glared at me for an entire week before Raguel caught him."

"It's safe to say that his demotion changed nothing. Those damned wooden swords are just as harmful as the real things. I'll attest to that."

After that she made it a personal mission to watch out for her friend, helping him carry his full satchel or tie the sash that wrapped around his shoulder, making sure that no one noticed anything off about him. He was noticeably a bit subdued and the moment the Messenger noticed she was quick in drawing his attentions away from him again.

They made a good team and it was soon a little over two weeks since their meeting in the garden hidey hole, in that time it became more apparent that whatever was wrong with his shoulder was starting to get stronger, Zaveriel had dropped his messages more then once and had almost been reprimanded in front of everyone when he dropped an entire stack of papers that quickly scattered around the main hall of the aerie. Akeela had been quick in taking the blame, and had later been sternly scolded for trying to play in the aerie while they worked, it had hurt to be scolded but if it meant her friend was safe then she'd take one every night if it meant helping him stay off the radar.

But she knew things were getting worse and it was becoming harder not to tell someone. She didn't want to break her friends trust but she didn't like seeing him hurt either. Zaveriel had helped her through so much hurt in her young life and she wanted to help him in turn.

And so she finally did.

"Titus, what would you do if you had a secret that you promised to keep but knew that it was bad to keep it a secret?"

The tall Power looked up from his plans for the early beginners and graduating classes to peer into the fledglings eyes. Despite his hardened appearance, the Power had a kind heart, and had taken to their honorary member almost immediately. "It depends on what the secret is."

"What if you knew someone was hurt and you promised to not tell anyone?"

The Power set his pencil down, sitting up fully, and gave his undivided attention to the fledgling. Akeela had been sitting across from him on the same table, legs kicking back and forth over the edge, until she had fallen still. He leaned on his crossed arms and turned away from his work for the moment.

"Is someone hurt?"

"I can't say."

"I see.", he held out his hand for her and her little fingers curled around his as he tugged her around to sit in front of him instead, her little feet curling over his thighs and he braced his arms on either side of her. "Well it would depend on how hurt they were. Say, if it were a Knick or a small cut then no I would keep it a secret, but, if it were something I knew they needed help with then I would say something to help them. That is what friends do, is it not?"

She bit her lip and nodded, falling silent again, he rubbed his thumbs over her lower back and waited patiently for her to conclude her inner debate. The fledgling surely knew more then even Michael did, and most of it was witnessed or told, she was good at keeping her secrets and this one was most certainly eating her up.

The fledgling looked down at him again and their eyes met one another quickly, "Titus I have a secret that I promised not to tell but I want to be a good friend too."

"They will surely understand in time that you choose to share this secret with their wellbeing in mind."

Akeela bit her lip again and nodded, keeping her silence about her for another couple moments, "Titus I'm really scared for my friend. He's hurt badly and he won't tell anyone cause he doesn't want to get someone else in even more trouble because they are already being so mean to everyone for getting in trouble before." She took a deep breath, "And I promised not to tell anyone but I'm scared for him too."

"What is happening, baby Power?"

A moment longer and she told him everything, tears springing to her eyes at the knowledge that she was breaking her best friends trust, but her fear for him overrode any need to keep the secret to herself anymore despite having sworn to. Titus listened quietly, not interrupting her fast paced admission, and nodded to nearly everything she said. He didn't yell at her for keeping the secret she had. He didn't get mad at her for inadvertently keeping the one responsible undisclosed for their transgressions. He listened attentively and rubbed away the tears that slipped free with surprisingly gentle fingers.

"I think we should tell our brother."

"We can't tell Michael! He'll be so mad! We can't Titus!"

"He will not be angered at you baby Power but very well. We at least have to tell his Master then."

"No Titus! We can't tell any one of them!"

"How about we tell Nisroc then and see what he thinks we should do? We Powers the others opinions greatly after all."

It took a moment of thinking but she nodded after another small moment, curling her arms around the tall Power's shoulders when he hooked his hands under her arms and pulled her up with him as he stood.

Nisroc had been furious at the confession, not at their little warrior, but at the happenings and the failure to see ones wrongdoings. He swore he'd take care of it himself and left them alone in the filling training field. Michael looked oddly at the Power as he stepped passed him at the entrance, taking the steps quickly, and disappeared from sight a moment later. He turned his confused gaze to the other Power and fledgling, but little Akeela buried her face into Titus's shoulder and the Power shook his head once.

He had sworn not to tell Michael of course.


	20. Likelihood

When Gabriel walked into his room for the third time that week, or his office, and almost got covered in a pale of different colored dyes he had no doubts who had tried to prank him. Those two were too predictable. And they had been noticeably absent for nearly those same three days.

His older brother only confirmed his suspicions, on the day they finally managed to get him, that he had heard soft laughter coming from across the hall in his room following the shout that came from the Messengers side of the hall.

But the matter didn't end there and he got them back in his own right.


	21. Yellow

Golden wings snapped involuntarily at the rage that welled up inside the playful Messenger. Gone was the easygoing manner and in its place was the Third Prince who had once faced off against the Leviathan after the birth of the first flock of fledglings. Nisroc stood before him, hands tucked slightly in the top folds of the sash that was wrapped around his waist, thumbs hooked in the leather belt that held the sheath to his sword.

"How long has this been kept silent?"

"At least a couple weeks."

Gabriel nodded once, it was a harsh nod, he was not happy that this news had been kept from him. But he was even more upset at himself, he should have seen the signs, noticed sooner. Zaveriel was an energetic youngster, one of the few who could nearly keep up with he himself, and there had been a change in him these last few weeks. And he had scolded their fledgling pretty severely for interrupting the work and tripping the others up in the aerie after that one day. She had very nearly let it slip but had caught herself, he saw the way she had yearned to say something when he'd finished, but only nodded in understanding and slinked off to hide away in his brothers room.

He had thought that it was only to mope at being scolded for something like he had scolded her for the mess at the aerie.

"Who harmed him?"

"They will be handled appropriately."

"Nisroc that was not the question."

"It is the answer I am willing to give."

The Messenger stared at the Power for a moment, surprised at his blatant refusal to divulge such information, but Nisroc remained unmoved. He was tough, he seen a lot during the war, had done a number of things that he regretted, and thus was not an easy cookie to break.

Gabriel respected that.

"I thank you for informing me of this.", the Messenger nodded to the Chief Power, "If you'll excuse me, I have one of my flock to tend to."

Nisroc nodded and stepped to the side to allow him to pass, following behind him, and shut the door at his leave once the Messenger had thanked him again before turning wing to see to his Second in Command.

He watched until he disappeared before turning back to the direction of the training fields. He stepped over the last step and nodded in Titus' direction, and he immediately turned their little warrior around, the others stepping up quickly to distract her from the next happenings.

Though for how long was the question of the moment.

Nisroc stopped one of the older cadets and took his sword from him. A quick reassurance that he was not in any trouble and he gave him the soft order to instead take to hand to hand for the time being. There was no need to be strict with those who had not deserved it. He was not a cruel commander.

He stepped through the classes, making his way to where the newest recruits were going over position and placement with Raguel, the Power saluted his Chief quickly and let him take over. He had seen the look in his eye and knew that something had to have happen.

"Rest for a moment", Nisroc's voice halted the little things, it was unheard of for the Chief Power to come see the younglings or stop them from their practices, it was mainly Raguel and Titus who taught the youngest ones. The older classes paused and turned at the dark tone from the Power, Nisroc paid none of them any mind, he even went so far as to ignore the inquiring gaze of his archangel on his back.

"Paul, step forward."

The blonde youngling stepped forward, a bit nervously, which was good. He deserved to be nervous, Nisroc was one who believed in reteaching their values and giving most a second chance to prove themselves, however even he had his limits.

Paul eyed him nervously, "S-Sir."

Nisroc stared down at him from over his nose, fingers tightening around the hilt of his own sword, the soft giggling of their little warrior only strengthening his burning anger. She should not have to worry her tiny self with the welfare of friends.

"Did you or did you not attack a messenger unprovoked?"

"S-Sir! I ca—"

"It was a yes or no question."

"I…Yes…"

Nisroc breathed a harsh breath from his nose and turned a glare down on him instead in the next moment.

"I demoted you in hopes that it would deter you from such ways, though it seems I was wrong."

He tossed the sword he'd procured at the younglings feet and Paul looked down at it in fear.

"Pick it up.", Nisroc's fingers tightened once more on the hilt of his own, "You have the desire to prove you are stronger then other choirs? We all rely on one another to function."

He waved the others back, not seeming to mind the older angels that started gathering around them, all wanting to see what was about to happen. Paul shook slightly as he bent to pick up the sword from where it laid in the grass before him. A hand grabbed the wooden sword in his other and yanked it away, tossing it to Raguel behind him, and the Power drew his own sword.

"We will see where you stand in your training.", and dropped into a fighting position, "You will face me."


	22. Tomorrow

The Fledgling stared out the window, a sadden presence in her eye indicating the feelings she truly held in her heart, and it saddened them to know that she was so upset and there was nothing they could do to lift her spirits. She sighed softly and bent to rest her chin on her knees, continuing her staring out the window.

Sitting lazily at the table behind her, the Messenger exchanged a disheartened look with his older brother, and Michael sighed softly much like their fledgling had. She had been like this since the day before last when the blonde archangel had made his leave. She was rather fond of them all, it showed in the way that she always returned to their garden, but her choir master was by far the favorite of the four of them.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, "Little one?", she turned to look at him at his call and he smiled to her kindly, "He will be back by morning."

"Promise?"

"With all my heart."


	23. Dark

Gabriel was seething as he walked among the passing angels moving about doing their duties, his eyes locked on the back of one angel alone, and he moved through the others smoothly. Most stepped out of his way, seeing the look that adorned the normally passive archangels features, turning to look over their shoulders to see where he was staring. The young messenger gasped as his satchel was lifted out of his hand and fingers curled around his good shoulder.

"Zaveriel."

His second in command spun at his voice, eyes wide in alarm, trying to step back a step and he would have if it hadn't been for the fingers holding him in place.

"She told you!"

The Archangel shook his head, "Nisroc did."

Zaves looked panicked now.

"Do you want to do this here or do you want to take this to the infirmary?"

Seeing that he had no way out of this, and cursing his best friend for telling _someone_, he nodded to the second half of the inquiry and they marched along to the Healers domain. He couldn't really fault her though, he could see the fear in her eyes every time he managed to meet them, and he knew that it as not nice of him to use their friendship as he had to keep his own secrets and force her into keeping them as well.

Raphael looked up in surprise at their sudden appearance, immediately ushering them to one of the vacant beds with a quick wave of his hand, "What brings you two here?"

The Messenger motioned to the shoulder of his young apprentice, Zaveriel looked down in shame, though part of him was happy he was finally getting himself help. His shoulder had started to kill him with the pain of it and didn't know how much longer he was going to be able to just seemingly grit his teeth and bear it.

"His shoulder. Nisroc said there was something wrong but would not clarify exactly what. I don't believe he himself knew."

The Healer nodded and stepped up beside the younger angel, gesturing to his shoulder in question, to which the young messenger did nod in reply. He pulled his top down completely and from behind him he could hear his younger brother hiss.

His shoulder was a mottled mess of dark blues and purples. He pressed a few fingers into the tender looking skin and hummed when the younger angel yelped.

"It's broken."

Gabriel rubbed a hand down his face and stepped forward to take a seat next to the younger messenger angel. Zaveriel refused to meet his gaze as the Healer turned to give them some privacy and gather up his own supplies he needed. "Im not mad at you Zaves." The young messenger looked over to his Master with wide eyes and Gabriel met his eyes and gave a nod "Im hurt that you would want to hide this from me but I can't fault you for it. I didn't exactly cement that pillar of trust when I up and left you with no warning and a flock to guide."

"I forgave you for that."

"I know kiddo, but it's something I'm going to have to try and forgive myself for too, you were young and didn't need the responsibility of Leading the entire Flock that I forced onto you."

They fell silent for a moment, as the Healer returned and sat behind him, long fingers prodding at the painted shoulder. The Messenger took his younger's hand when the Healer gripped his shoulder to reset the bone, though he was younger then him Zaves had a tight grip and he himself had to refrain from yelping when his older brother yanked suddenly on the broken end and forced it back into place. He was silent as he worked, giving them the air between them to talk through the grievance, "Will you promise to come to me from now on though?", Zaveriel hesitated but nodded eventually, "Will you say sorry to Akeela? She was really upset after that one night."

"Of course I will. She didn't deserve that. I'm assuming it was really you who dropped that roll?"

He nodded, "She took the blame for it so you wouldn't find out."

Raphael splinted his shoulder and wrapped it in a matter of moments, giving him a smelly concoction to drink quickly, "To help with the pain and swelling, the faster you down it the better, and no heavy lifting for a while."


	24. Motto

They had learned rather quickly, that when one mixed the nefarious minds of the two friends, and the friendship that ran between them, that any competition was to be closely watched.

It took a week but all of Heaven was privy to the competition between the two.

Michael first took note of it when his dear little fledgling joined him for training the warriors, walking at his side, little hand in his as she surveyed them in the same manner. The Powers were training towards the back and they made their way over slowly. Titus and Abraxos waved when they got close enough, their expressions brightening when the little one waved back excitedly, and the archangel and fledgling came to a stop next to the two Powers. They watched Haniel and Nisroc spare for a moment, watching as Nisroc managed to get in a swipe and sliced into the others arm and a small bit of blood spilled out. The Second stopped, slipping the knives into the belt around his waist, and held a hand out to pull his friend up.

It was in that moment that the fledgling finally piped up.

"I don't trust anything that bleeds for 5 days and doesn't die."

They all turned to stare at the fledgling in various expressions of surprise and Haniel busted into laughter.

Raphael was brought into the mixture when both fledgling and little messenger were brought to him to keep an eye one after they had tried to sneak something from Gabriel's office, and they followed him around as he went about his work.

He was binding a warriors arm when Zaveriel cleared his throat, and both angels turned to look at the young messenger, both young angels were standing side by side with their arms crossed.

"Everything is funny as long as its happening to somebody else."

Lucifer was invited to the party when he was discussing something about the underworld with Michael, the little fledgling perched on his right arm, explaining the happenings down there as the demons were left to their own devices and how he was going to appoint one of the demon princes as his regent in his stead.

Akeela laid her head on his shoulder at that statement and piped in, "Heaven won't really take me and Hell is afraid I'll take over."

Michael heaved a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose, and the Morningstar looked to his young fledgling with raised eyebrows "What?"

"Don't worry about it."

Gabriel was inducted into it all when he took the two of them own to earth when the Winchesters called them for an assist in a unknown plague that was terrorizing a town in the middle of Wyoming. Zaveriel was glaring at the oldest Winchester brother from the way he had verbally assaulted his commander when they managed to get the drop on him those odd years ago slouched forward with his hands tucked into his hoodie pocket. Akeela was sitting perched on the trunk of the Impala, kicking her boot covered feet back and forth.

He rolled his eyes at the younger hunters rather annoying but constant jabbering about the poor good _humans _that were being affected.

The young messenger rolled his eyes and turned to look at his closest friend and Akeela turned to meet his gaze, "I don't know why their so concerned. The towns bursting at the seams. Overpopulation? Too much of a good thing." And his friend nodded back in serious manner.

Both Winchesters fell silent and turned to stare at him, Gabriel through his hands up in the air and spun to face them completely, "What the heck was that!"

The last to join the party was none other then their Father Himself, He had called the Four Princes, their second in commands, and little Akeela in to reveal the first steps in Him and His Sister's creation made by both Their hands.

The deity went on and on for a while, to the point that Zaveriel lost interest and instead turned to entertain himself and his young friend at the same time, somewhere near the back of the 'class', the two of them were playing _rock, paper, scissors _on who seemingly got to make the closing statement for the end of their little competition.

Zavriel punched the air and whooped softly when he won the best out of ten. Aunt turned to watch them at the soft cheer, not bothering to halt Her Brother's ramblings as She watched the two friends with a small smile. They amused Her to no end and She had become rather fond of their antics. He had just finished up His introduction when the voice cut across the room, all eyes turned to face the young messenger and fledgling child where they sat near the back of the Throne Room.

"And this goes to prove, you're never too old to learn something stupid."

Father heaved a tired sigh and rubbed at His temples, more then used to such things from the pair of them, and little Akeela broke into peals of laughter. Zaveriel looked rather proud of himself and the fledgling passed him one of the small chocolate bars that Gabriel had let her bring back from their visit to earth to help those annoying Winchesters with that plagued town.

"What are you two doing?"

"Seeing who has the better motto."

"Zaves won. That was so funny. Daddy you really old and that plan sounds really dumb but also really cool and you should do it!"


	25. Tender

**AN: Of course I got your review Robin0203! I gotchu frand! Just shoot me one whenever! **

**cutecookielove I love you fran! youre the bomb!**

**You both the bomb!**

The oldest and youngest in their flock had the most interesting of relationships. At one point the one feared the other with all their being, and now they were the one the other went to in order to chase new fears away. Michael was more reserved then his brother, preferring to simply stand back and watch rather then get directly involved, and then he was pulled forcibly into the fray by such a little thing.

Their fledgling had shown him that even the most gravest of mistakes hold the possibility of being forgive, and she held no fear as she climbed up into his back or next to him during storms in the middle of the night.

She drew him out of his shell, as he chased her through the trees in the garden or played with her in the shallows of the lake, she brought out a side to them all that they had feared was lost to time and hardship, but none like she brought out in the oldest Archangel.

The fledgling helped to show the other fledglings how good he could be.

And when the little boy had approached him while he sat under a tree watching the little one play with the others, he was surprised but welcomed him softly, Titan; he said his name was, sat next to him on the soft grass in a slight fearful silence.

"Akeela says you know really good stories?"

He smiled to himself, nodding to the fledgling next to him, "Would you like to hear one?", it only served to make his grace soar when the others slowly but surely came to sit around them in order to hear what he was saying.

And it was all thanks to that cheeky little thing giving him a thumbs up from the back of the group.


	26. Ashamed

"Luci?"

The little voice drew him from his thoughts and he turned from his book of notes to look over at the call of his name. The little fledgling was standing in the doorway to his room as though she wasn't sure if she was allowed to enter despite the fact that it was his room that she had made a second home for herself. He set his book aside and turned in his seat to give her his attention.

"Yes, little one?"

She tugged lightly at the hem of her robe and looked down to her feet, he sat back when she bit her lip and looked back up at him with teary eyes.

"Luci I gotta tell you something."

"Come here" he held his hands out for her, beckoning the fledgling closer and she scurried over, lifting her arms slightly as he scooped her up to sit on his lap instead of loitering in the door way, "What eats at you little one?"

He wiped away the little tears that managed to escape from her little eyes and lifted her chin with a knuckle.

"I can't help you if you don't tell me how."

Akeela bit her lip and nodded, "I did something bad."

"What happened?"

She shook her head, "You'll be mad at me and never talk to me again."

"There is nothing you could do to make me never talk to you."

He reassured her by pulling her closer, her little arm pressing to his chest, and she turned to look at the archangel again.

"I broke someone's wing."

She scrunched up as if expecting him to yell, perhaps strike her, and she peeked over when he didn't. Lucifer looked curious, perhaps a bit sad, but he didn't look angry with her. He rubbed a hand down the back of her head, scratching at the base of her neck softly.

"Why?"

"They were gonna take me away from the others and try to take me to be redone again."

It was a sad truth to the horrors of the war, Naomi had been allowed too much reign and she had caused too much damage. She had been among the last ones thrown into the prison and forgotten about. Father had taken a long time to fix the damage that had been done to His children. He couldn't fault the fledgling for acting out in such a manner to save herself from that torture.

"Do you feel bad for doing it?"

She nodded quickly, looking up at him with wide eyes, "A lot!"

"Would you do it to another?"

She thought on it, Zaveriel had promised to never tell on her, but she had done it again. Luci could remain unawares and everything continue on as it was or he could find out eventually and then she would be in even more trouble.

"I did it to another too.", her choir master nodded and hummed lowly, "To who?"

"Castiel."

"And why did you break his wing?"

"Cause he was being a meanie."

He sighed again and rubbed a hand over his chin, "Akeela that's no reason to break someones wing."

"I know."

The Morningstar rubbed at her ear softly, "But it still wont make me turn my back to you, so rid yourself of those thoughts.", she nodded and leaned closer and felt a semblance of happiness when he curled his arms around her "But you also know I can't let this go unpunished."

That's what she feared, but she felt so much better knowing that someone else knew. She sniffled and nodded, knowing where this was going, and took her masters hand as he held it out to help her down from his knee. He escorted her to the dreaded corner and she sniffled again.

"You will stand here for five minutes."

The fledgling nodded sadly, rubbing at her eyes with a tiny fist, and he pressed his hand to the top of her head.

"And then we will spend the afternoon together."

It made it not so bad knowing that he would hold her when she was allowed out again.


	27. Hypocrisy

"I though I made it clear when I said to follow my order."

It was not often that the Messenger and his Lieutenant disagreements, but there they stood nose to nose, glaring at each other in way that was unnatural for them. The pair of them had a close relationship, thicker then thieves for the most part, and that relationship had weathered a lot of storms but always came out unscathed.

Zaveriel glared right back, shoving the Archangel away from him harshly, his voice sharp and precise when he rebutted the accusation.

"I would have was your order to inane and idiotic."

Others gathered to watch the spectacle, it had been one of those particular hunts that nearly all of the archangels and their seconds had come to join, and of course the fledgling that was a force all on her own right.

Nisroc stood next to his Commander, nodding along in agreement to the messengers accusation in return, it was not often that the Power agreed with the Chief Principality and it wasn't because of ill will towards the other, they were quite good friends. They just had different ways of showing their detest to some orders.

The messenger Chief just straight out ignored the ones he thought to be ludicrous.

"It wasn't up for you to decide, I gave you the order, and you will follow it."

"I refuse to follow orders that make no sense."

Michael stepped up next to his younger brother, Raphael sparing him a look before both of them returned to the argument unfolding before them, it had been some time since they had witnessed a fight between those two.

They were rare, to say the least."

"I am your Commander and you will follow _any _order I give."

Gabriel had stepped closer, grace snapping angrily in return, towering over the younger angel. It would send most tumbling back with an apology quick on the lips, but they didn't choose just any angel to serve directly under them, and the ones that they usually chose from the bunch had more backbone then to stand down. Thus was the case when Zaveriel held his arms out in a human gesture of _'whatcha gonna do?' _shoving the Messenger back again.

"Some Commander, honestly, we're all just waiting for the moment it becomes _too much _again and you just up and abandon us _again_."

It was a low blow, thus was the way with arguments, and the others could see the hurt in the Messenger's eyes when his lieutenant spit it out at him. Little Akeela made it to her choir masters side and clung to his hand, hiding behind his leg, watching as her two friends broke out in front of her.

Castiel was standing in front of his two charges, waiting for the moment to jump in should their argument turn for the worse, he has seen what archangels can do when they lose their temper. Sam and Dean watched the two of them, like a tennis match, throwing words back and forth.

"I _refuse _to risk myself for the likes of _him_."

There was a venom to his words as he threw his finger towards the seraph that stood guard over his two humans. Castiel was, least to say, not well like among most of the Host. He having turned his back on them and then aiding the two humans in killing them off when they refused to bow to his will. How many had died by his hand for his self-righteous determination of what was _'right'_.

The answer was too many.

"He is your brother and we protect our own."

Zaveriel was quick to spit back, "Like _you_ protected us?" Gabriel looked as though he'd been struck "He is no brother of mine and I will not stoop so low as to throw myself into danger for his wellbeing.", He sneered at the lowly foot soldier as he completely ignored his Archangel before him, "I'd rather see him on the end of a sword before I jump in front of one for him."

It was not in his nature to hate other angels, Zaves was a very loving angel, and once you became his friend that friendship lasted a lifetime. But he was also quick to hate when he was wronged and was not easy to gain forgiveness from either. His biggest flaw was his ability to hold grudges.

"The war is over Zaveriel. We all made mis—"

"The _war _is never over! It will _never _be over! It lives on in everyone who lived through it. Do not pretend to be so blind as to not see it. Not that I would expect you to understand, where were you again, while your flock suffered at the cruel hands of tyrants?"

It was an admission that everyone was ignoring. Nisroc lowered his head at the thought, something that haunted nearly everyone's mind, and had not been mentioned lest it be true. The proof was all around them. The fighting may have stopped but the war would never come to an end. Not really.

Zaveriel stepped forward, waving a hand in the others directions, "Look around you! We have suffered so _much _because of angels like _him_." He pointed harshly at Castiel again and the seraph bristled slightly, "Look at what lays before you; Akeela is little more then 6 millenniums old and most of that time was spent fighting in _their _war, she was whipped _Commander _for merely being in the choir she was in.", he gestured to Nisroc, "The Power hides it well but the screams haunt him. He can't close his eyes without seeing the red blood flowing around him. The regrets he has at simply _following orders _will never leave him again.", he backed up, standing up straight, "I took charge when you _abandoned_ us and I am telling you I will never stand on the line for him. Orders or not."

"You are stepping out of line."

Gabriel was losing control of the argument, bringing up the war had thrown most of the archangels off kilter, it was not something they thought of in these days though perhaps they should have. It had never really occurred to them how many of their siblings put on a brave face and were still haunted in the dark.

"I'm only _following_ your example."


	28. Leisure

Akeela giggled as she ran through the trees trying to find a good place to hide. Behind her she could hear the sound of footsteps coming her way, and it only made her giggle harder and run to a low hanging tree scaling up the branches to hide in the thick green leaves. She couldn't be found, and pressed a hand to her mouth to try and hide her heavy breathing and swallow her soft giggles, looking down as the dark head filled in underneath her, looking one way and then another, before disappearing again.

She waited a good amount of time before climbing back down, looking in the direction that the pursuer had come from, and squealed when arms caught her from behind, tossing her up in the air as she was lifted from her feet.

"I've caught myself a young mouse."

The older angel, a rich mocha color, held her above his head and smiled at her light happy giggling. She smiled down at him brightly, her little fingers curling around his lower arms.

"Hi Camael!"

"Hello little mouse."

It hadn't taken her long to convince the mightiest soldiers in all of Heaven to play hide and seek with her in the garden on this day of rest they had managed to finally come to after a seemingly never-ending week. They were all quite taken with her and everyone knew it. It was hard to comprehend sometimes that the most powerful angel in heaven was a fledgling no older then a few thousand years.

"Do I win?"

He squeezed her middle lightly and she squirmed, giggling at the motion, her smile brightening at her playful friend.

"Do you think you've won?"

She nodded brightly, giggling when he gave her another squeeze, and he tossed her up once more before settling her little self on his shoulder.

"Shall we find the others and let them know how the winner is of this game?"

The fledgling nodded, her fingers curling into his curls, and they walked off in the direction he had come from. They stepped into a clearing some paces away and were met with the various assortments of greetings from the others. Scattered around the clearing in the undergarments worn under their hard armor, soft tunics and trousers, lounging against tree trunks and seated on rocks.

"I see someone has finally managed to catch our little warrior."

Abraxos held his arms open as they drew nearer and nearer, and Raguel tugged her down from his shoulder and tossed her over to the other power. Average build and almost as pale as the moon, the archer of the Power's caught her swiftly and bounced her in his arms.

She pushed herself up with her little hands pushing against his shoulders, "I won!"

The others smiled at her exuberance. Abraxos congratulated her, pecking her nose softly as he passed her over to the brother next to him, Puriel and Daniel gave her high-fives. They hugged her between them and she giggled when they poked her in the belly. The little fledgling tumbled away from them in her escape of their playful attack and giggled again when arms curled around her middle, having fallen on a body underneath them, Titus was laying lazily in the soft grass and pressed a firm kiss to the side of her neck, just under her ear making the fledgling shriek softly at the feeling.

"Many congrats baby Power."

Haniel snagged her up from the other's grasp when he dug his fingers lightly into her sides, making her shriek and squirm again, holding her close to him.

"How dare you fiends torture our little warrior."

The fledgling giggled again, she was just so happy it was hard to stop, at his dramatic acts. A strong set of hands snagged her up from Haniel's embrace and she smiled up at the Chief Power with a brightness that could strike fear in the darkest of moments. He held her out in his arms, cradling her against him, "It would be wrong if she did not deserve it most of the time."

"Hi Nisroc!"

"Hello you little sneaky one. Was it you who hid out boots this morning?"

It was easy to miss but they were all barefoot, much like the fledgling they so cared for preferred to go, not that they minded, they were spending most of their day in the garden after all.

"You'll never prove it!"

"Don't worry yourself. We will pry the confession from you."


	29. Morning

The little girl opened her eyes slowly, peering out the open window at the sun that was rising above the clouds in the east, shining its light down across the expanse of Heaven. The rise and fall of a chest had her turning to look at the one who she had fallen asleep against, smiling at the peaceful face of her older brother.

The Healer was still sound asleep, arm slung around her waist to keep her from falling off him or the bed, face curled slightly into his pillow.

He had worked late into the night, tending to those who had returned from Purgatory, and she was at his side until he was able to turn in for the night, carrying the exhausted fledgling with him until they reached his room and collapsed onto his bed.

She had been in this room numerous times before; thus, she knew the old books that sat upon the desk, the shelf of vials she was never meant to touch under an circumstance, the trinkets on the shelf on the opposing wall. She knew most of the things in this room, but it didn't stop her from taking in the sight again and again.

Akeela laid her head back down, listening to the hum of grace under her ear, and closed her eyes again. A large hand pressed over the left side of her head, the thumb rubbing at her cheek, it was morning but the both of them were content to stay there for as long as they pleased.

"We will wake up in the next hour."

"Two?"

"The next two hours."


	30. Death

"Hi Uncle!"

The taciturn man gave the little fledgling a rare smile as he stepped passed her towards the doors of the throne room. His cane clanged against the smooth stone under him as he came to a short stop next to her.

"Hello, little angel."

"Are you here to see Daddy?"

"I am, if that is alright with you."

"It's fine, shut the door on the way out."

He bowed softly, ring glinting in the sun light, and took her little hand to press a kiss to the back of it.

"I will ensure that I do, much obliged little one, I take my leave."

He left her sitting there, scribbling a crude picture on the sheet of parchment she'd snuck from the Messenger's desk, and turned back towards where he was headed.


	31. Resurface

Akeela was left to her own devices upon their return to Heaven, her four big friends disappearing with the others in quick succession; Michael escorted Nisroc to the Barracks, Lucifer had walked with Jeremiah back to the Pantheon, Raphael disappeared with Oren, and Gabriel dragged Zaveriel away by the arm. She heaved a sigh, sitting by herself on the steps to the house she stayed in most nights, and hunched over on herself resting her elbows on her knees.

They were going to be gone for a while, that much she could tell, and it left her to sigh heavily in her lonesome.

If she couldn't play with them then she'd find someone else to play with. She hopped down the steps and walked down the path quietly, pushing the gate open with little hands, and turned down the Axis. There was no one available to play with at the moment and so she walked down the street looking for something to distract herself with.

The Guards were standing in the same position they always did, waving in return when she waved to them in greeting, stepping up between them to knock on the grand doors to the Throne Room. A soft echo granted her entrance and she heaved the great doors open, slipping inside.

"Hello My little fledgling."

She stepped up to the tallest person she'd ever seen, "Hi Daddy."

He lifted her to sit on His knee when she raised her hands to Him in that universal sign of wanting to be picked up. She heaved a sigh and latched onto the front of His robe.

"What is on your mind little one?"

"The others are busy now Daddy."

He sat back in His throne, wrapping a hand around her middle to keep her from falling off, and waited for her to continue on.

"What are they up to?"

"Zaves got mad at Gabe for being ordered to protect Castiel and told him that they broke everyone and now theyre all gone.",She looked up at her Father with wide eyes, "I wish they'd all come back."

"Your friends are all upset, they need your older brothers to help them get better again, do you remember how you felt?"

Akeela nodded, looking down to her lap, and curled her fingers around His.

"But I don't get why they don't just stop."

"Some are not as strong as you are fledgling, though I do believe the war still has its toll on everyone despite their attempts to claim otherwise, including you My little one."

She was loath to admit it, she wanted to be strong, perhaps she wanted to be strong so she couldn't get hurt again. He rubbed a hand down the back of her head, humming lowly in His throat, and the fledgling looked back up to Him.

"I see how strong you are, little one, but I can also see the shadows that hide just out of sight in those sparkling eyes of yours. Unfortunately it is not so easy to get over for others. You just have to be strong for them until they can learn to be strong for themselves. And they will return the action in favor."

"But Daddy I just don't get it. The war was scary but why can't they just forget it."

"Have you forgotten it?"

She wanted to say yes but that would be lying and she knew that there was much that Daddy allowed them to do but lying was never going to be one of them. Sometimes it still haunted her, in the night time, especially when there was storms. He knew how the others felt and she wished that she didn't, or that she could help her friends feel better.

"Will they ever be okay again Daddy?"

"With time My little one. Only with time."


	32. Cavity

"Please come out little one."

They had been at this for nearly an hour, after having seen her bolt into their garden and crawl into a hole in a large oak tree, and they had followed soon after when nothing came chasing her inside. Not that much would dare chase their fledgling into their garden, it was a right suicide mission at its finest.

"No!"

"What happened, little one?"

"No!"

The gate to their garden snapped shut again and they turned over to see the young messenger walking up the path with his master. Gabriel frowned at their lack of success in getting their young fledgling out of her hiding spot. Zaveriel stopped just behind Lucifer, leaning over the archangels head to see into the hole his best friend was hiding, "Yea no she's not coming out."

"Do you know what has her so frightened?"

He shrugged, "No idea. We were chilling in the garden with Haniel and she went to go get something from up in a tree and when she came back she just bolted."

Michael was the closest to the hole, and he leaned in to whisper softly, they couldn't hear what was said but it managed to make more progress then they had been making for nearly an hour. He reached into the hole and pulled their fledgling out. Akeela immediately curled herself around him, hiding her face in his shoulder, fingers gripping tightly to his tunic.

They watched as he stood, cradling the back of her head tenderly, rocking side to side to calm her quaking shoulders.

"What did you say that finally got her to come out."

"That I'd hold her."

They never did learn what made her bolt to the tree though, and it had worried them, but knew better not to pry. Try and force someone to share something they don't want to and they'll end up clamming up completely.


	33. Engaged

Zaveriel walked in to the garden next to the Throne Room in search of his friend and immediately spotted her a few paces away, facing away from him with her little feet kicking in the air. Her attention solely for the piece of parchment that was being scribbled on.

He smiled to himself as he crossed the soft grass and stretched out next to her.

"What ya working on?"

She smiled and passed the parchment over to him, letting him read what she had scribbled onto it quickly, and he smiled once more.

"This a great idea!"


	34. Homework

"Do you remember what I showed you last week?"

The fledgling nodded to the warrior, standing in the same position she did every time she prepared for a fight, though her skill could still do with some refinement, if it really came down to it they would gladly have her fighting at their back.

Nisroc smiled at the fledgling standing before him, "Then show me.", he fell into his own stance and waited to see which one of them would throw the first move. When she remained as still as she was he came to the conclusion that she was waiting for him to make his first, she was a smart little fledgling, and he swiped at her with the wooden sword. She met his swing with the end of her own wooden sword, spun their weapons around, and his sword was thrown from his grip.

She fell back into her fighting stance, knowing never to stop until her opponent stopped, and he held his hands up in the sign of peace and sat back on the ground.

"You are a force to reckon with little one."

"I know."

He smiled, "And we're very modest, I see."

"It's a curse."

They would never tell the archangel of their meetings but sometimes they were sure that he knew more then he let on he did. Though he never said anything so they didn't either. The fledgling threw her sword aside and jumped on him, throwing them both back, fledgling sitting on the mighty Power's chest.

"I win!"

"You cheated."

"Still a win."


	35. Outcome

"What did you think would happen when you and your little friend tried to catch me unawares?"

The fledgling giggled as her back hit the soft mattress, looking up into the bright blue eyes of her biggest brother, squirming when he poked at her sides.

"Have you anything to say for yourself?"

It had been a brilliant display, after showing her dearest friend what she had come up with in the garden the other day he had been all too willing to help her achieve her goal, and thus their actual planning had begun. It was the perfect day following the staging, and it was the same day that the Commander was supposed to welcome the newest classes too. It couldn't have been a better day to enact their brilliant plan, leaving the oldest angel completely soaked and them running as fast as they could from the area before he caught on, and catch on he had, and she had been quickly swooped up as she tried to run up the path to hide in her masters room.

He was dry by that time and tossed her giggling form over his shoulder as he calmly walked his way up the steps and into their home, down the hall to his own room.

"I wish we added the dye."

"I think it worked in your favor that you didn't get to that part."

He loomed over her and Akeela giggled up at him when he kissed the tip of her nose, little fingers curling into the front of the tunic he wore, laying over her to keep her from moving too much or managing to escape.

"It would have only made it worse for yourself."

"You don' scare me!"

"Just you wait little one."


	36. Saint

"Daddy can I ask you a question?"

"Any time My little one."

Akeela smiled up at Him and He immediately knew that any sort of question that came from her next would be of the cheeky variety, next to Him Sister was preparing Herself too, a smile already gracing Her own features.

"If humans are made in your likeness then why do some smell so yucky?"

"Come here, you little troublemaker."

She shrieked as she was pulled into His lap.


	37. Sinner

"I don't get it."

Akeela was kicking her feet back and forth on the table, sitting just in front of her choir master, as if she was going to protect him from the ones sitting around them. She knew how he was treated by those who used him when he was needed and discarded him when his use was up.

A few sets of eyes turned to look at the fledgling for speaking out, but she ignored their looks and kept swinging her feet, looking at the great big telescope in the room across from them.

She could feel the eyes of her master on the back of her head but she ignored that too.

"What don't you get dearie?"

The fledgling finally turned, to look at the redheaded witch that had spoken in return to her comment, she frowned softly in a way that was not usually seen on the child's face.

"Don't call me that."

"Akeela."

Her masters voice is soft but it holds the slight sharp edge of warning to it.

"I don't get why we have to help you?", she turned to look at each and every one of them at the table, "You ask my master for help and will turn on the next foot and treat him badly. All of you are guilty.", her eyes locked onto the two Hunters, "You asked him for his help and after his usefulness had worn itself out you tried to imprison him again." She turned to look at Rowena, "You trapped my master", and to Crowley, "Both of you did and you hurt him. I don't like either of you. I'd kick you but I think I'd be stopped before I got to." She glared at Castiel "I just don't like you period. Enough said.", and then she went back to looking at the telescope.

"You're all bad guys, despite what you try and tell yourself to justify your actions, but at the end of the day you're all the monsters you're supposed to fight."


	38. Vacation

When the Healer returned to their garden later then normal, rubbing a tired hand down his face, and heaving a massive sigh as he trekked up the path to their home, he was met by a small voice that had him jumping nearly out of his own skin.

"You need a break."

"I do."

He held his hands out for their fledgling and she scurried over to let herself be picked up.

"You need to be in bed."

"I do."

She laid her head on his shoulder.

"Why don't we take a break together big brother?"

"That sounds like a grand idea, little one."

"I know it does. I thought of it."


	39. Wednesday

Akeela had a schedule that she followed rather closely; Mondays were her playing days, Tuesdays she helped Raphael in the Infirmary, Wednesdays she helped Michael train in the Fields, Thursdays were for exploring, Friday's were for helping Gabriel deliver his messages, Saturdays were for practicing with Lucifer and the other choir angels, and Sundays were for rest.

Thus, it being a Wednesday, she stood in front of the warriors, her hands on her hips, "Drop and give me twenty!"

Nisroc snorted next to his Commander, "She's a natural."

The class wasn't sure what to do or if they should follow her order, until the Power stepped forward and set a hand on her little shoulder.

"M'am yes M'am!"

Titus and Haniel dropped into position at the front of the class and the younger angels soon followed suit. The two Power's grinned at her order and Michael shook his head as he turned to survey the younger classes.

He often wondered his Power's were more loyal to, him, or his dear little fledgling.

A natural, indeed.


	40. Winter

"Are you warm?"

The little fledging nodded quickly, smiling up from under the warm scarf wrapped around her neck, as the large hands zipped up the warm coat she was tucked away in.

Lucifer returned her smile and pulled the hat further down her head.

Behind him his brother heaved a sigh for what must have been the thousandth time in the last minute alone. Lucifer rolled his eyes and stood up taking the little mitten wrapped hand in his own.

"Yes brother?", they both turned to face the Healer, taking in his crossed arms and unhappy gaze, "You have sighed at least a thousand times in the last minute alone."

The Healer glared at him, "I have not.", Akeela giggled softly into her free hand and he spared her a glance, "Do not be so quick to find humor in this little one.", she nodded but continued to giggle, "Don't let her stay out there too long."

"As if I didn't already know that. We'll be back before you even notice we're gone."

"I doubt it."

Akeela looked back up to her choir master and he smiled back down at her.

"Wanna go see outside?"

She nodded excitedly and tugged on his hand lightly, he squeezed her little hand softly and they turned for the door, he opened it and ushered her out into the cold white. Her eyes widened in awe, staring at all the white, she held a purple mitten'd hand out and caught a little white flake in her palm.

"What is it Luci?"

"It's called snow, little one."

She giggled softly as one landed on her nose, "It's cold!"

"It is."

"Like you Luci!"

"Watch it squirt."


	41. Wind

She covered her mouth with her hand, trying to stifle her breathing from the ones searching her out, clutching to the trunk of the tree with her free arm trying to listen for the coming of any others.

Footsteps came the left and then from the right, and she heard the voices from underneath her on the ground, it hadn't taken her more than a moment to convince the two oldest archangels to play a game with her in the garden.

"Brother, she had better hope I don't manage to get my hands on her little self."

"Oh, I agree brother mine, I want to play with that belly of hers, I really really want to."

She looked down at them as silently as she could manage but still giggled under her breath. She watched as they took a seat on a pair of large boulders like rocks and continued to talk the each other in hushed tones.

Michael nodded up to the tree before them and Lucifer stifled a snort, nodding in return, they had known of course that she was up there all along, and were just biding their time at this point. She would come down eventually and then they would swoop her up and have their own fun.

They nodded to one another and stood, stepping off into the trees before them, and she watched disappear until their footsteps disappeared. One would think she had learned after her adventures playing with the Powers that her opponent could very well still be within range to catch her.

So, she waited for a good three minutes before slithering down from her hiding spot and hopping down on the ground. She jumped over the rocks they had been sitting on and ran in the opposite direction.

Akeelah was nearly to the safe spot when she was swooped up midstride. She pushed against the bigger angels' shoulders.

"Nohoho!"

"And so close to the safe spot."

Another joined them from the right, "It seems you've managed to catch us a little mouse to play with."


	42. Surprise

"Father, are you busy?"

Their Father looked over from where He was working on a new project and waved them further in from over His shoulder. Michael lead them in, the others flanking in behind him, and Gabriel shut the door behind him.

"What brings you here, My sons?"

"Father we've been talking about it for some time and we want to do something the little one who stays with us."

He turned fully from His project and rubbed His hands on a towel to remove the clay like goop that soaked them, motioning them closer with a wave of a freshly clean hand.

"Oh? And what did you four have in mind?"

Before angels were sorted into their first classes, they were placed into flock, Akeelah's flock had moved on without her, most of them having been split up during the war. And thus, while she belonged to the Choir now, she had no flock to call her own now.

Michael exchanged a look, huffing softly when they clearly indicated that they had gifted him with the responsibility of voicing their thoughts for them, as was one of the duties as being the oldest brother, if was a curse he willingly lived with.

"We want to give her a flock.", he gestured to his brothers behind him, "Our fledgling has the choir but has no flock to belong to."

"And you wish to have the fledgling join yours?"

He sat on His Throne, folding the cloth over the arm of the Throne, leaning forward with His hands on His knees. The Archangels exchanged a single look, and each nodded in kind, that was indeed what they wanted to do, she had stayed with them for nearly as long as Lucifer had brought her out of the Pantheon. She still ventured back of course but always returned to them in the end.

"It has been some time since you've last had a fledgling in your flock.", He gave them an inquisitive look, "Are you sure you can handle having another?"

They each nodded again, the others stepping up to stand at the oldest brother's side, as a united front to their Father's inquisitive gaze. The last fledgling, they had in their flock had been Gabriel himself, and that was some _some _time ago. They really weren't as young as they had been, and that wasn't to say they were old, but even still. Looking after a fledgling was usually a full-time job.

"She has been staying with us since she came from the Pantheon."

"That she has. I've seen the way you all care for her. You've been raising her well. To see that spark returning to her eyes again was something I had hopes for."

Lucifer smiled at the thought of his little fledgling, she really was a joy to have around, a bit sassy at the best of times, and most certainly a bit mischievous, but brought a light with her that was not seen in such a long time.

"I will grant you this request.", He leaned down in His throne and passed them a crest with their sigil carved into it, "I will give this to you to use when you see fit."

Michael took the crest and tucked it into his robes smiling up at his Father.

"Thank you, Father."

"You are most welcome My sons. She has changed you all. I never thought I'd see you so close again."

They smiled at each other again. Thanking their father in turn one by one as they left Him back to His project. He bid them farewell and a soft congratulations.

The four of them found little Akeelah scribbling on a piece of parchment on the steps of their villa. Gabriel ran to join her, moving just ahead of them, and took a seat next to her on the step. She was quick in hiding the page away, but Michael saw the name scribbled on it just before it was hidden from view and he hoped his Power knew what was coming for him.

"Little one, come here.", the oldest angel sat on the step next to her and lifted her up into his lap, she looked up at him inquisitively with wide eyes, "Whatever they said I did they don't have any proof." That minute admission brought them all to pause, "Did you do something we should know?" at the realization that she had possibly admitted to something they were not aware of, and she was quick in shaking her head, despite her oldest brothers narrowed eyes, "Nope. Nothin!" they would come back to that matter at hand later.

"Little one, what do you know of your flock?"

She looked up to the Healer with gloomy eyes and shrugged.

"I dunno. We were all separated, and I've haven't seen them since."

They all exchanged a look and urged the oldest one on.

"Little one, we want to ask you a question, it's a very important one, it that okay?"

Akeelah nodded, fingers curling around the chain necklace that hung around the oldest angel's neck, looking up at him with wide eyes.

"What's wrong big brother?"

"Little one we want to take you into our flock."

She tilted her head in confusion, "Why?"

"Why? Because we adore you little one. We want to give you somewhere to belong at the end of the day. Will you accept out invitation?"

She stared at him for a moment before breaking out into a bright smile.

"And I'll always be able to come back here?"

"Don't you already?", Gabriel quipped softly on her left side. And she giggled over at him from her place in Michael's lap. He smiled at the sound of it and reached out to rub at her cheek softly.

"Indeed. You will have a place with us until you're are older and even then."

"Yes!", she lurched forward and hugged herself to him tightly "Yes I do!"


	43. Disarm

Paul shook as the Power bent at the knees, preparing himself for a fight to come, and tightened his sweaty grip on the sword hilt as he too fell into position. Around them, the others gathered to watch the spectacle, and over the Power Chief's shoulder he saw the archangel and for a moment he thought that the Archangel would step in to stop the madness. But Michael merely stood there, hands folding behind his back, and watched them. It would be going against himself when he had given the right to punish the young squire for his wrongdoing.

Nisroc would not harm him too much but that did not mean he would go easy on him either. Perhaps it was a long time coming, it took a lot to push his Second in Command over the edge with his temper. But he was rather fond of their little warrior and anyone who harmed her or a friend of hers faced the wrath of the Powers tenfold.

She was their honorary member of course.

The Power waited patiently, making it clear he was not going to make the first move, and it left the young trainee to move forward first. He swung, trying to aim for the knees, and the swing was quickly parlayed by his opponent, the sword redirected, and the Power stepped to the side calmly as the younger angel stumbled forward, smacking him in the rear with the flat side of his sword. The youngling rubbed at his rear with one hand and fell back into position, this time the Power charged forward. He came at a quick pace, easily blocking the sloppy swing in his direction, and locked the hilts together to unarm the youngling facing him. Paul stumbled forward again, and this time he was smacked in the rear with the flat of his own sword, the weapon tossed back to him as was the manner.

It was embarrassing, being smacked in front of everyone; the other Powers and their Legions, the other trainees, the fledgling he had been tormenting for a while, but especially in front of the Archangel. His face burned a deep red as he spotted him watching the fray with attentive eyes.

"This is the best you can do?", the Chief Power calmly exclaimed as he returned fluidly to a resting position ready for the next supposed attack, "I can seen now why a fledgling half your age can defeat you."

It was a stinging remark, and it boiled a little deep in his belly at the thought that he wasn't good enough, he was better than some fledgling. And he glared at her from the corner of his eye. Titus was distracting her though, so she didn't see it, between him and the other two; Raguel and Haniel, she was thoroughly distracted by the proceedings. They whispered things to her, tossing the fledgling between the three of them, poking at her belly until she giggled again. It made a hot rage of jealousy flash through him. He hadn't been treated with such kindness as a fledgling, having grown up with a strict guardian who thought such things were weakness. And here she was getting such attentions, but only from the mighty Powers, but from what he'd seen and heard, from the archangel himself.

He jumped forward with a yell and just managed to catch the Chief Power's arm, slicing a thin line of blood on the skin, and he looked over at it in wonder. It was not like younglings, in his opinion, to hold such hatred in their hearts. Most were excitable and full of the youthful energy that came with them, and yet from this one all he'd ever seen was biting determination and anger, and it left him curious.

The next swing, from over the younglings head it came, was blocked with the sort of ease a Power had on the battlefield from how far they had come, and Paul stumbled again. The flat of the sword smacked his rear again but harder than the first two times and he gave a soft almost inaudible whine as he lost his sword and rubbed at his stinging behind. Nisroc dismissed the others with a quick wave if his hand and their dispersed quickly to get back to training once more, even the Archangel nodded and turned to return to his walking through the sparing partners.

The other Powers disappeared with the fledgling in tow.

And Nisroc held a handout to him to help him to his feet.

"You are a worthy opponent when you don't get too cocky. We will purge you if that cockiness, that I swear to you."

Paul took the surprisingly gentle hand of the Power and was pulled to his feet, the Chief quickly turned and tossed the sword back to the older youngling he had originally taken it from and the other was quick in jumping back into it once more, the swords clashing together with a spark, Sabrael would make a great Power someday because of his passion and heart. They were not just about fighting and being an almost unbeatable Legion all of their own.

The heart had to be strong and full too.

As was the reason that a fledgling had managed to wrap them all around her finger, he mused to himself.

Paul followed after him when he motioned for them to return to the benches, hopping up to sit on one as the Power Chief knelt in front of him and passed over a ladle full of cool water for him to drink. He took it gratefully and downed it in one go, chugging it in his thirst, and handed it back when he was through.

"You have determination that will get you far on your chosen path, youngling, but a rage burning in that belly of yours that will also be your downfall. You are young yet and to see such a rage is concerning.", the Power's voice wasn't as hard as it had been when he had issued the challenge, they were the toughest warriors Heaven had at it's disposal, but also the most gentlest of angels too.

"I saw the look you had spared the little warrior, I know the gleam that shone in your eyes.", Paul looked down in shame, such things were weakness, that is what had been beaten into him as a small fledgling under his guardians 'care', "Tell me, youngling, who was your guardian before?"

He licked his lips and Nisroc could see the conflicting emotions rolling through the youths eyes, as if wanting to say, but not be caught saying anything against the one who he had been given to for raising.

"Naomi."

The older angel hummed, patting him on the leg, "Well that explains the rage burning within you in one word.", he had been there when they had raided her workshop, right in the midst of rewriting (read: torturing) another angel. He had not seen much but what he had seen was no indication that she should have been allowed to raise anyone, let alone an impressionable fledgling. "Tell me, how was your fledglinghood?", he wasn't too far out of it, he had only been chosen in a little over a millennia ago, and had stood out in his classes and thus moved to something more advanced (before being demoted again of course), Paul looked up at him again, much too tired then was okay to see in a younglings eyes, he had been through a lot and it shone in him like light shone from the sun, even before the deepest parts of the war, "It hurt. She wasn't nice. I don't remember much. It's all really blurry and things are missing. I remember bits and then they change too fast to hold onto it. All I remember really is that it hurt. Unless I was the best. Then it didn't hurt too much."

It didn't surprise him that a fledgling raised under that monsters (and he didn't say that about many of his siblings) tutelage would be this worn as the youngling before him was. It explained much of his behavior, coming out on top for him wasn't an option, being last at anything meant more pain, and he could only imagine the things that dreaded angel had done to the impressionable angel before him.

"Being the best if fine. But hurting others to gain such success is not tolerable here. It would be _best _if you were to be _you _and not who others have molded you into being. Those you see are not here to harm you, not all of them, and they will treat you with care if you return the favor in kind."

Nisroc squeezed his knee tightly, feeling the leg under his touch twitch lightly at the feeling, and he held his hands out for the smaller angel to take. Paul's fingers curled around his as he helped him back to his feet, staying in the kneeling position as to be able to look into his eyes once more, resting his elbows on his knees.

"Come up with you. Count yourself lucky that our Archangel gave it to me to see to your punishment for your wrongs. He is known to strip misbehaving younglings who had soiled a second chance and switching them in his office.", Paul nodded balefully as he rubbed at his still smarting bottom, looking down to his feet in shame at such displays, he was better then that.

A few fingers brushed against his belly and he giggle softly despite himself, looking back up to see the might Chief Power smiling at him softly, and he poked him in the belly a few more times until the small youngling curled his arms around himself.

"I am sorry for the fledglinghood you faced. You did not deserve it. Under all that rage is a youngling who knows how to love and does so deeply. I have seen the way you stand in line for your friends."

The tingles in his belly were just beginning to fade when he was poked once more, fingers brushing over the uncovered spot above his waist and he giggled softly again.

"I cannot take away the pain you experienced at the hands of your previous guardian, despite how I wish I could, but I am your guardian now and I will show you how to learn to simmer that fire burning in that belly of yours to simmer down until it is needed. There is no need to look at the little warrior in such fashion, if you wanted some of the same attentions as she gets, all you must do is ask."

Let it not be said that the mighty Powers were not kind angels, they cared deeply for the Legions that followed under their command, and for the younglings that came to train under their tutelage; from the oldest of younglings to the newest and youngest.

"We will explore that soft giggle I hear later, that I can give you my word on, and we will find that side of you that I know you hide from the world. It is my duty as your guardian.", he stood, pushing him forward with a gentle hand on his shoulder, "But for now we return to training. Wait for me at days' end. I intend to follow through on my word. I do not give it with the intention not to."

"I'm sorry for hurting them."

"I know. I can see it in your eyes. You may act on that anger fed into you, but your eyes show everything, that is why they says they are the windows to the soul. Do not worry, they are forgiving angels, and we will work on extinguishing that rage burning hot."

As Paul returned to training under Puriel's soft commands and instruction, Nisroc standing slightly to the side to watch them, the one in particular that needed a bit more kind attention given to him, the archangel came to stand at his side. He watched them through their movements silently.

"Who was the boy's guardian?"

"Naomi."

Michael hummed, nodding his head twice, "That explains much of this behavior. It pains me to think of the horrors I'm sure he must have seen and faced while being raised. I trust you will show him that there is no need to be so tough?"

"I do intend to, Sir, he has the same reaction that the little warrior does when you pay her belly some attention to."

"Good. Show him that it is not weakness to soften ones heart."

"Of course, Sir."


	44. Passport

Whenever Michael offered to take her flying it was never an offer that she turned up, never ever. She loved flying, soaring above everything else and watching it all as they went by, seeing nearly everything there was to see. And the eldest angel was all too happy to take her on those little trips, they would do anything to give her a semblance of a fledglinghood that she should have had all this time.

Though, of course, when they did go flying, she always asked about her lack of wings and when they would grow in for her.

"You will get them. I assure you. Some just get them later then others. You are still just a babe yet though so do not concern yourself."

"I'm not a babe."

He scooped her to cradle her in his arms, "You are a babe if I say you are."

She smiled at him and it made his grace soar as it did every time, she graced them with it.

"I am who I say I am!"

"Not unless I say so first."

"You're not my boss!"

He cradled her closer, "No?", she giggled excitedly when he opened his great white wings and knelt slightly, "Are you sure?", before thrusting them up into the sky.


	45. Parade

Having the Archangels officially adopt someone in their flock was a great spectacle, the factions gathered together in the Heart Hall, the Legions stood at attention, they were dressed in their finest robes and it was an amazing time.

The only one who was unhappy about it was the fledgling that was going to be adopted with in.

She sat hidden in the garden, her fine robes itchy against her skin, nervous about the whole ordeal.

"Mind if I join you little one?"

She looked up at the soft voice, and nodded to her big friend, and the Power slid in next to her. Slowly and silently the fledgling crawled up and into his lap.

"What eats at you baby Power?"

Akeelah fiddled with the rope tied around her waist before looking up to meet the Power's gaze. He smiled down at her kindly and allowed her to scoot in as close as she liked. Puriel cradled the back of her head and hummed softly, the tall blonde Power squeezed her close to him, and she clutched at the golden sash wrapping around his chest.

"What if they don't want me Puriel?"

"If I may, baby Power, they _adore _you. I have not seen my Commander so happy in a long time. You bring out a side to him that we were sure was lost as another casualty in the war. Just as I'm sure the others can attest to as well."

"You really think so?"

"I know so. Shall we join them?"

She nodded and he hefted her up onto his arm as he stood, walking them both out of the safety of the trees, where the others were waiting for them. Nisroc looked up from adjusting the sash around his own chest and smiled at them both.

"Are we ready, Puriel?"

"Ready, Sir, just a bit of cold feet is all."

He nodded once, smiling to the little warrior they so card for, and raised his hand in a single gesture. The others fell in at his sides, Puriel stepped in between them all with the precious cargo they were tasked with retrieving, standing just behind his Chief, Akeelah smiled brightly at the look Haniel gave her from the right and when Nisroc caught it and wacked him on the back of the head.

They marched out at his command, following the path up to the Heart Hall where everyone else was waiting, and the fledgling pressed a kiss to the Power's cheek as they did.

"Thanks for coming to get me."

"Always, baby Power."


	46. Point

Akeelah stopped giggling at whatever Haniel had said the moment they had entered the Garden. Nisroc gave a soft greeting in welcome and knelt to hug the little warrior, before stepping back.

Behind him stood her tormentor, the one who had hurt her friend, Paul looked nervous to be standing there and was playing with his fingers as if by some nervous tick. She glared at him from where she sat leaning against Haniel's knee, her fingers stopping their plucking of the green grass under her, speaking in a harsh tone that surprised the two older angels.

"What are _you _doing here?"

Paul looked to the Chief Power nervously, and he only nodded, sitting next to the other on the overturned tree trunk.

"I wanted to say sorry for how I've been treating you."

"I'm not sorry. You're a jerk. Just cause you think you're better than everyone else. No one likes you. No one wants to be your friend."

He looked a little torn by her words, and she looked up to meet Nisroc's gaze when he placed a hand on her head, fingers scratching at her scalp between the dark braids "Mind yourself little warrior." The reprimand was soft but felt, though she shrugged it off and shook off his hand, turning to glare back at the older angel standing nervously in front of her.

"That's what happens when you be mean to everyone." She used Haniel's knee to help herself to her feet, stepping closer to the warrior in training, pushing him hard in the chest making him stumble back and nearly fall, "When you _push _everyone around, they don't want nothin' to do with you. You can keep your apology. It means nothin'."

She stepped around him and glared at Nisroc over her shoulder, causing the older Power to raise his eyebrows at her, "_Thanks _for bringing _him_.", and she left them in the garden. They watched her as she walked off, hopping down the stone steps and disappearing out of sight, Paul deflated and watched her go with a saddened expression though found that he couldn't be mad at her.

She did have a point.

Paul looked to the two Power's for help and Haniel shrugged, Nisroc looked thoughtful, but neither seemed worried about it.

"Don't worry about its kid, she's just mad, she's a forgiving angel. She'll come around."


	47. Overindulge

Father had decided to join them in their garden that particular day, it wasn't uncommon, or it hadn't been eons ago. Now to see Him at all was a rare commodity.

He sat with His eldest son watching as the others played with the fledgling in the grassy meadow in the middle of a clearing from the trees. It was a sight, to see them so carefree, as though nothing was weighing on their minds. To see them act like themselves again and not a version created out of heartache. It was a slow process, but things were starting to slowly rebuild once more. Relationships were mending and friends reuniting. And that included His Archangels as well.

They slowly stopped chasing one another, laying in the soft grass, the little fledgling sitting perched on the Healer's chest, giggling to whatever it was he was saying to her.

"You four indulge her."

"It is hard not to."

He smiled at His oldest son, "I know it is hard, I remember the days when you were only little, toddling after My robes in an attempt to follow Me wherever I went."

Michael blushed and He chuckled at the sight of it.

"But you must also learn to say no."

"We do Father, and she handles it with grace, not easy to bring down."

Father nodded and watched as the fledgling perched on the Healers stomach finally got to her feet, running over to where they sat watching carefully. She giggled and waved up at her Father, leaning hard on her older brothers' legs.

"Big brother, can I get an apple from the tree?"

He looked up at the precarious looking tree, taking in the thin branches and the lack of things to catch her should she fall, and shook his head, "No little one."

She shrugged, though a bit put out by the denial to the request but didn't let it hold her down." Okay." She quickly turned to their Father instead, "Can I sit with you Daddy?"

"Of course, My fledgling, come here."

Perhaps He was a bit indulgent too.


	48. Luck

It was a mission gone awry that truly forced them all into the realization that their little friend was just that, only _little_. It was true that she could hold her own, growing up mid a legendary war would teach any one how to survive even in the darkest of circumstances. She had one stood against Heaven's sword himself and managed to walk away from it at one point. She had been hurt in such ways no fledgling should ever experience during younger formative years.

But she was still only little.

Her shriek of terror pulled them all away from the matter at hand, human eyes spinning to look at the cause and celestial eyes blazing in a fury that none had seen since that fateful day. A demon attempting a grab at the throne had managed to snatch her from behind and pressed his blade against her smooth tender little neck.

"Everyone stops or she get it."

She shook with fear but managed to repress it, a fire burning in those little eyes that should never have been lit at such an age but had saved her life more times than not burned deep into her strange grace.

The little one stared straight at her choir master, her struggles for freedom fading as their eyes met, as fate would be on her side in that moment the older angel was merely waiting for the right moment to take the fray into his own hands. He gave a short nod first, and a smile managed to worm its way onto the fledglings features despite her precarious peril at hand. "This counts as one of those times." It was only in her favor that the demon who managed to snag her up was new to the position, had not yet been hardened by the fires of Hell, and thus was easy to harm even for a mighty such as her tiny self. She pulled her leg forward and back against with the might of a terrified fledgling who refused to be too weak again, she kicked the demon in the gut hard enough that she could have burst a kidney had the demon needed it to survive.

Even still the pain of it was enough that he dropped her to the floor where she landed in a small heap, scurrying quickly to hide behind her master's leg. With her safely out of the way the reinstated archangel surged forward in all the fury of a burning star, proving as to why they were referred to as Heaven's most terrifying weapons.

The Morningstar lifted the demon who dared touch his fledgling and usurp his throne up by the neck, fingers digging into the windpipe tight enough that it caused him to start wheezing. Around them the other demons halted in their assault, turning to watch the proceedings with wide frightened eyes, dropping their weapons when the burning icy gaze of Hell's rightful king turned on each of them in turn.

"I want it to be known that anyone who dares touch **_my_**fledgling will be standing against me."

They shivered and knelt in fear of opposing their rightful King, not wanting to upset him further, and he turned back to the demon at hand, "Count your stars that she is here with me or I would tear you apart piece by piece. I am **_your _**King and whomever shall take the Throne as my regent will be picked by myself and myself alone. Do you **_understand_**?"

The young demon nodded frantically, as best as he could, and counted himself as lucky when the archangel merely squeezed his neck harder but dropped him into a sputtering wheezing mess on the floor.

With the decree renewed in their minds the Morningstar turned to swoop the fledgling up onto his arm, "Are you alright."

"Yea", though he could see the faintest glint of fear shining in her eyes he decided to not call her out on her bluff "I'm okay Luci."

"Glad to hear it."


	49. Liar

"Akeelah?" the fledgling turned to look at the one who had spoken her name and met the golden eyes of the Messenger, "Yes big brother?" her all too innocent reply had him narrowing his eyes slightly.

"Are you the one who broke Dean Winchesters arm?"

"No."

He knelt before her where she sat on the edge of the table in the war room of the bunker, their hunt hadn't been too bad and none of them had barely been touched, even the little fledgling that had accompanied them. Thus there was no way he had broken his arm that the archangel had just healed on the hunt they'd just returned from, and there was no way that his younger brother nor Sam Winchester would do such a thing to the older hunter, and Gabriel himself was not that cruel.

He lifted her chin with a finger and looked into her eyes sternly, "Do not lie to me."

"I'm not. Don't accuse me of somethin' I didn't do."

"Watch your tone fledgling" he stood again, and her eyes followed him as he stood to his full height and crossed his arms, "Did you harm the human hunter?"

She bit her lip, neither wanting to get in trouble for not being truthful nor for admitting to her wrong.

Though her loyalty to the flock that had adopted her into it was overpowering sometimes.

"He deserved it."

His expression hardened, "And what did he do that was wrong enough to have you break his arm."

"I don't like him."

Gabriel shook his head once, "No. That's not good enough of an answer. Try again."

"Fine.", she jumped down from the table and stood as well as she could in his face, though the effect was diminished somewhat by the way she had to look up at him and he down to her, she was only a little fledgling of course, "I did break his arm. He uses us and you don't even care. He would just as much kill us as he would demand out help when things get too tough. None of this would have happened had they not done what they had. They cause great big messes and expect everyone else to pick it up." He looked down at her hardly, "Watch yourself fledgling." She opened her arms in the fearless human nature of _'What are you gonna do?'_ and shook her head, "No! I don't like him, and he doesn't like us, he only tolerates us because he asks and we have to deliver. How many of us has died at his hands? They're stained red by it. Sometimes I feel as though I'm the only one who sees it because you're too stupid!"

The Messenger knelt again and took hold of her little shoulders, "Don't you ever speak to me like that again, do you understand me?"

She shoved him hard against his chest, and though he didn't budge, it didn't stop her from doing it again.

"You're not the boss of me! You're just mad cause I'm right!"

None of them knew what it was about the Hunters and their Guardian that brought this side out of their normally so even tempered and bright fledging, sure they had been wronged by them but they had been wronged in return, it was an even trade and something that they had learned to simply get over. He could see why she would be upset; he knew that she had been on her own despite the crowd she had lived with for millenniums, and would defend the only flock who had truly welcomed her in with all her little might.

But that did not mean he was going to stand for this sort of attitude from her either.

"I may not be your master, but I am still your elder and you will be respectful." She huffed but remained silent in her own self preservation kicking in "And you do _not _break people's bones."

"I'm not sorry for it!"

She was a spitfire, he'd give her that, and it would be a trait that would get her far in her long life but could also be her downfall if not curtailed.

"Go stand in that corner. If you know what's good for you, you won't make me repeat myself."

"No!"

He turned her, resisting the urge to give her a well earned swat, but they had all agreed to no be physical with their fledgling considering the things she had lived through, they were not too blind to know that they weren't being told everything about her experiences in the past thousand years, they just knew not to push it out of her until she was ready to tell them.

It was a matter of trust of course.

"Go."

She huffed angrily but marched over to the dreadful corner, her resolve not crumbling in the slightest, "And I _will _be telling your master too." That cracked the stone hard resolve slightly.

"For how long."

"Until I _say._"

Castiel and Dean Winchester came up beside him, watching as she stood in the corner, little fists clenched at her sides.

"That's it?", the hunter didn't sound pleased by the supposed lack of punishment, "She broke my freaking arm and you sent her to the _corner_!"

"I must agree brother.", Castiel spoke up from his left "She will learn nothing with your soft hand."

Gabriel turned a harsh glare in the seraph's direction, and though he attempted to make it appear it had not affected him, he still took a slight step away at the glare from the powerful Archangel.

"Do **_think _**to tell me how to raise a fledgling. I've raised far more fledglings then you've even been around to see."

"No man! The _brat _broke my _arm_! The corner is nothing! She deserves to get her ass beat or something!" Dean glared right back when the Archangel turned his glare on him, but the angel was not so blind to see the slight glint of fear that his in his eyes "I will never raise my hand to her Winchester. Do no underestimate what others have been through. You lost your mother and your father turned you into his perfect soldier. I'll admit that your life sucked ass. But that fledgling lived through a _war_." He turned back to watch the little one, her fists had slowly loosened, the corner was always a suitable punishment for her at her detest of being alone. "What you saw on earth is just the tip of the iceberg on what the others _lived_ through. There are things that happened that not even we know about. They won't _tell_ us. And you, Castiel, didn't help anything in slaughtering half of a faction because they refused to side with you. You don't gain loyalty in threats and action, you gain loyalty in action and words, it is best for you to stay down here for your own safety. She was not wrong in what she said. Most would see any of you on the other end of a sword then aid you in the slightest."

"Gabe can I come out now?"

The anger and such had left her tone, but still he shook his head, in some ways the hunter was right. She _had _broken his arm.

"No. You can stay there for a few more minutes."

The fledgling nodded and sniffled but didn't protest, the fight having left her at her lonesome, she really didn't like being alone and not being able to see that others were around. Voice were one thing but actually seeing is believing. It was the most suitable punishment for the fledgling's rare wrong doings that they had.

He sat in a chair at the war room table and watched her carefully, though her way going about it was to be desired, she did bring up some good points that they had never stopped the fully think about.

"How bad could it have really been for her? I mean didn't you guys say that the choir or whatever she's in locked themselves away from everyone else."

"Did you ever stay in one place for too long as a child, Dean?" The hunter was loath to admit it, but he had him there. "Don't think to be under the impression that what she has lived through was easy on her. She has been hurt in more ways you can think of."

"Like what?" Sam Winchester had joined the party and asked the question that was circling on all three of their minds, "She's just a kid. Even in war that would seem a bit too far to hurt a kid."

"As far as she will tell us, and it isn't much mind you, she was at least whipped. For what appears to be a certain amount of time from what we saw when she finally got revenge on the one who did it. She still bares the scars and will for her lifetime as a reminder of what she went through."

A few more minutes passed in silence, "Gabe can I please come out?"

Finally, he relented, it had been a good ten minutes since he had sent the fledgling there, and nodded his head.

"Yes, you can come out now. Come here."

She turned and scurried around to climb into his lap aided by his hands helping tug her up, she huddled in close to him and he curled his left around her, lifting her chin to look him in the eye again.

"You don't ever talk to me like that again, do you understand me?"

She nodded "Yes big brother."

"We don't break peoples bones even if you're mad at them. And you are going to apologize, aren't you?"

There was a small sniffled at the scolding and she nodded again, turning to look at the hunter in question, "I'm sorry you deserved it."

"Seriously! Gabriel!"

"Trust me Winchester, it's the very best you're going to get."


	50. Impulsive

When Zaveriel had come to her, and on the foundation of their friendship, to ask if she would stand behind her without giving much more of an explanation, she had agreed after only a moments hesitation. She'd asked only once what they were going to do, and he had told her it was important and left it at that.

Friends don't turn down friends when the come to you for help.

Because she doesn't have any weapons of her own just, yet they had to stop by the armory to get something for her to use. They pressed themselves against the cool stone wall when the Power stepped passed just around the corner and disappeared down the hall leaving them alone. Following the hall, peering around for anyone in the halls near the armory in the faint light of the burning torches on the walls, Zaveriel reached for the door handle of the weapons closet and turned it.

The door creaked softly as he pulled it open and he told Akeelah in hushed whispers to keep an eye out for anyone coming towards them, and she clutched at his leg peering down either side of the hall to keep a look out.

Her messenger friend told her stay with a quit gesture and disappeared into the large room for a moment, he gazed over the Power's chosen weapons and the training swords, bows and arrows, maces, lances, you name it he saw it.

Hanging on a peg in the wall was the leather belt that held the two daggers that she used with such accuracy, and he crept over to gather them up, slipping back out the door and clicking it shut before Akeelah could announce if she could have seen anyone.

He took her hand in his and pulled her in the direction to the exit, they ran as fast as they could across the training field, looking over their shoulders to see if they could spot any Powers in the overhanging stone dwelling that overlooked the fields.

"Zaves where are we going?"

Akeelah finally wrenched her arm free of his grip as they slipped through the crowds towards the gates, the memory of the scolding she'd gotten from her master when she had broken the hunters arm was still fresh on her mind, she had been bared from going with Michael to see the Powers and watch the training for week (at the eldest's bequest as she had harmed someone unwarranted) and she didn't want to not see her other friends for another if she could help it.

The young messenger finally turned to seemingly give her an answer, "Akeelah you remember my friend Gadreel? Right?"

She nodded "The one we got out of the prison and who Theo was hurting."

Her friend nodded in return to her verbal remembrance, "I heard that _someone _tortured him for information on Earth."

"Is it Castiel? Cause that sounds like something he'd do."

He nodded, "Got it one. We're going to go show him his error in judgement."

"I don't know Zaves. I mean I really don't like him, but I don't want to get in trouble again. He's not worth me not being able to have fun."

"I do hope for both your sakes that you don't follow through on this scheme."

They both spun at the voice from behind and were greeted by the sight of the Power that had managed to spot them as they slipped into the cave steps to make their break from the training fields. Raguel had his arms crossed, fingers tapping his bare forearm, as he surveyed the two younger angels carefully.

Akeelah was quick in jumping forward, "I wasn't going to! I missed you guys! I don't wanna not be able to see you again!"

"I believe that. If you give me back those daggers you pilfered young messenger, then I believe we can let bygones be bygones I your master will be none the wiser."

Zaveriel looked as though he was going to fight him on it but eventually, he begrudgingly handed them over. Raguel tucked them into his belt and smiled at them.

"Good choice. Come, we were heading to the garden, would you like to join us?"


	51. Double

"I swear, when those two get together it is twice the trouble for us."

They sat watching their fledgling and her best of friends play in the shallows of the lake, splashing water at each other, their laughter rolling softly around them on the wind. They sat together as they had on the first day they had brought the little thing to their garden to explore. Watching the two of them with the same sort of amusement.

"The war haunts them both, that much we all can see, but they are strong for their age."

The others nodded in agreement to the Healers words, watching as the messenger managed to snag his friend up by the waist and fall back into the cool water with her, sending them both splashing under.

"But they are entertaining too. At a certain degree."

"Luce you only say that cause they got me instead of you."

"Guilty as charged."

They watched as the two of them finally came out of the water, soaking wet and dripping water off if their robes, and ran in their direction. Neither master liked where this turn of events was heading and tried to get up quick enough to make their leave, but were not quick enough for them. The two young angels plowed into their masters, Zaves knocked Gabriel over into the grass, soaking him just as well as he was, and little Akeelah jumped into her masters lap hugging herself as close to him as she could soaking him in the same manner. The other two archangels, noticeably a bit more drier, laughed at their predicament

"They are indeed double the trouble. But it would not be traded for anything."

"Agreed."

Lucifer glared at them from over his little fledglings head, "Oh shut up! You just say that because you're not soaking.", he smiled mischievously, "Akeelah, big brother Michael would like a hug too.", the elder hummed in amusement, "Do it and face the consequences little one.", She looked up to her master, eyes shining brightly, "Do it little fledgling, call him on his bluff."

"Oh yes, do try, and see where it gets you."

Zaves was much worse off, his archangel not as forgiving as the choir master was, a hand pressed over his mouth while the other dug into his side. He squirmed hard, one hand trying to tug the one hand from his side while the other tried to tug the other from his mouth, as little tears started to form in his eyes.

"If you want to end up like you friend here, then I implore you, please come give me a hug."

The fledgling giggled and folded back into her archangels chest, her friend was left to his own demise, twas the way of self-preservation and he spared her a betrayed look when the hand moved down to squeeze at his hip and he jumped in his masters hold "I know you Zaves. If you dare to even think about thinking about licking my hand, you'll live to regret it, this'll be nothing but a cake walk, when it comes to what I'd do to you then."

Michael smiled at the little giggling fledgling, "Good idea little one."


	52. Antagonize

_'Okay, uh, no apologizing',_

Most paid little mind to the fledgling hopping from stone to stone on the edge of the Axis, signing absentmindedly to herself, but those whose carts she passed stopped to look at her as she did, as of right now she was the only member of the choir who sang for others to hear and it was still mesmerizing to hear.

_'Aint no way to take the things you did back or disguise it',_

She hopped from the stones into the grassy clearing between parts of the Axis, twirling around as she did, her braids twirling with her as she did, the melody dancing around in the wind as she twirled happily. Her little arms held out to her sides, standing on one foot to kick herself around again, until she managed to get herself back to the other side and hopped back up on the stone edge of the road.

_'Always wonder what I'm doin but that's tmi',_

The fledgling hopped down from the edge stones and hopped between angels on their way to and fro going about their duties. Some had to stop or lest they be tripped up, but they merely smiled fondly and went back on their way, seeing a fledgling angel among them was a rare sight to witness.

_'Don't know what you got until it's gone, now you realize it'._

She made it to the other side and hopped along the large stones, dancing around the different stands, patting her hands against the wood and metal and stone. Her spat in the garden completely forgotten as she moved her way along the Axis at her own pace, with no jerks coming to give any so-called apologies.

_'When I wasn't playing smart now, I'm being wise',_

The cart keeps smiled as she passed, nodding along to the beat she was creating with her patting, one handed her a large apple and she took it with a quick hug before continuing on her way. She stomped her little foot on the dirt path on the other side of the Axis and jumped up to spin across the lowest step to the Infirmary.

_'Finally, I'm moving on and I don't need your lies',_

She bit into her apple and it stopped her song that she sang under her breath, but she still managed to hum the tune that it seemingly followed, jumping down from the stone step, and continuing on her way.

_'Now you're stuck, call an Uber up if you need a ride',_

She has no idea what an 'Uber' is, but it sounded like a cool word so therefore she liked it. She nibbled on her apple and set the finished core down in a flower patch so that is could be swallowed up by the earth again. Continuing on her way she jumped up the stone steps by the two and danced around as she did, humming under her breath as she made her way.

The little fledgling was plucked up as she passed the steps that led to the training fields and the overhanging Pavilion of the Power's. She startled at first, pushing at who ever had her in their grasp, but a familiar hand rubbed at her cheek softly and she settled down.

She glared at the sight of her not-friend-anymore as he carried her across the empty training field towards the Pavilion on the other side. Her little self-squirmed as much as she could in hopes that she would be dropped and could run in the other direction, disappear in the crowd again.

Nisroc merely hiked her up higher and nearly tossed her over his shoulder. He did, toss her over his shoulder, and it was her luck that he was wearing only his tunic and trousers and not his hard armor. Akeelah punched his back with her tiny fingers, but it hardly hurt enough to phase the hardened warrior and her strong suit was kicking people anyway, with his hand wrapped around her ankles it made kicking him a very difficult task.

"Put me down! I don' want to see you!"

"I'm afraid you don't have much of a choice in the matter fledgling."

She huffed and pouted heavily as she was carried towards the damned Pavilion, bouncing with every step he took, she pinched his back knowing that she could at least be a pest until he finally had to set her down.

"Kept it up and see where it gets you.", he stepped up the stone steps that lead to the living space above them, "That was quite the spectacle you made in the garden, little warrior. He was just trying to apologize."

"He can keep his dumb apology. I don' want it!"

He hummed and pat her little feet with his free hand, the others looked over at their entrance and some snorted while others chuckled at the predicament their baby Power had managed to get herself into now. They had of course head about what had happened in the garden when the young trainee had tried to apologize to her.

They weren't worried about it, Nisroc would see to getting the problem resolved, he had a way with fledglings.

"If anyone has need of us, we will be in my room."

"Got it boss man."

He had to resist the urge to turn around and smack Haniel over the head again. But he was able to withhold the urge and kept walking down the hall. His door stood open ajar and he pushed it open to enter, he leaned forward to drop her onto his bed, she gave a small shriek as she was thrust back over his shoulder and onto the soft bed under her.

The Power left her there and turned to close the door with a soft click, kicked off his boots near the door, and turned to walk back towards his bed. The fledgling glared at him and curled away from him, not caring when the bed dipped as he sat on the edge, staring angrily to the wall in front of her.

"Little Akeelah, come now, is that any way to treat a friend?"

"We aren't friends anymore."

"We aren't? Well that breaks my heart. I rather enjoyed having you as a friend."

"Well now you can be friends with _him_.", Akeelah huffed and crossed her little arms where she laid staring at the wall, she would bolt for it if she wasn't sure she would be caught before she got too far, besides the others would catch her and bring her back if Nisroc couldn't manage to.

"Come here."

She kicked at him when his big strong hands wrapped around her middle, "No! Let me go! Let me go!", he pulled her around, holding her above his head, and glared down at him, "Put me down."

"Perhaps when we're done."

"I got nothing to do with you!"

"No? That glare doesn't look in place on your adorable little face. Allow me to remedy the situation."

"No! Put me down! We're not friends anymore!"

There was only one fledgling who could bring out this playful softer side to the war hardened Power chief, the fledgling giggled when he finally relented and pulled her into his chest instead, pushing against him when his fingers dug into her sides.

"No Nis! No!"

"I'm sorry, but only my friends are allowed to call me _'Nis_'."

She shrieked when he managed to curl around her belly. Her little fingers wrapped around his wrist and fingers, tugging to try and pull them free, and he gave her little belly a good squeeze and she tried to curl up.

"Nis no!"

"Again, with the _'Nis',_ does that mean that we are still friends?"

"Yes! Yes! We're still friends! Nis no!"

"You are a forgiving little fledgling, I am not asking you to be his friend, but can you at least forgive him?"

"He don' deserve it!"

"Do you want to force my hand?"

She giggled madly when he set her back on the bed, looming over her little frame, and she shook her head quickly her little braids whipping against the pillow.

"No Nis! Not that! I'll think about it! I think on it!"

Nisroc smiled down at the little fledgling he was so fond of.

"I'm glad to hear it, little warrior, but I'm still going to do it."

She giggled, curling in on herself, but Nisroc only chuckled down at her.

The others didn't see them again until after the sun fell, Haniel had gone to alert their commander that the baby Power was staying with them for the night, and they were all just sitting around talking when the little fledgling ran in from the hall. Giggling adorably, she jumped for the closest on to her and burrowed in behind Titus, much to the Power's amusement. Nisroc soon followed, smiling in amusement, stepping over Puriel and Raguel to sit next to Haniel on their large sofa.

"Has anyone seen our baby Power? I wasn't quite through yet."

"With what?"

"Supposedly we are no longer friends."

Titus hummed and fished the fledgling out from behind him.

"No longer friends, hmm? Perhaps we should mend this rift. What say all of you?"

"Don't hog the baby Power!"


	53. Sensitive

"You know little warrior?", they were laying out together on a warm patch of sun in the garden. Though she had said she would try and forgive it was proving to be a trying task, the grudges she could hold were as hard as stone, "He isn't so different from you."

"I'm not a jerk."

"Well, no, but you both had a hard time when you were fledglings."

"So what. Life sucks. Get over it."

"You both make the same sound when one does this." A finger poked into her belly playfully and she gigged adorably. He let her calm down and rested his hand on her belly instead, little fingers curling around his.

"Will you give him a chance? For me little one?"

She heaved a sigh and nodded against his chin, "But that doesn't mean I like him."

"I'm not saying that you have to."

"You kind of are."

The hand dug a few fingers into her side again and she gave a soft shriek at the tingly feeling, "You are a cheeky fledgling, aren't you little warrior. I am not and you know it. I am merely asking you to give him a chance for redemption."

"What if he doesn't deserve it?"

"Do I deserve a second chance?", she turned over onto her belly so she could look him in the eyes, out of all the Powers (and she was friends with them all) she was probably closest to Nisroc. He always made sure to say hello when she came to aid in the training, taught her secret things when Michael wasn't looking, and let her ride on his shoulders as he made his rounds through the fields, for him to ask her such a thing was crazy, "I have done horrible things. Do I deserve my second chance?"

Nisroc met her gaze, her eyes wide and shining with surprise at his admission and inquiry, resting on her belly now so she could see into his eyes.

"Of course you do!"

"Why?"

She gasped and grasped onto his tunic with her little hands, tightly, as if to make her point even more vivid with her grasp, "Cause you're nice. You guys are different! You're nice and he's not."

"But he can be when given the chance. I've seen it with my own eyes. I know you have a hard time believing me.", he was quick in catching her rolling her eyes in disbelief, "But I've seen it. He's hurting. Just like you are."

She rested her elbows on his chest and sat up slightly, "I'm not hurt."

"Oh yes you are, you hide it well, too well, but I can see it. The others can see it. You hurt here.", he tapped her chest with his finger, "And you hide it behind a wall of strength and sheer willpower but sometimes it still sneaks through."

"Well maybe if he wasn't such a meanie all the time then he'd have friends to help him feel better."

"And if you weren't so stubborn you would see what I'm trying to say."

"I'm not stubborn!"

"Oh yes you are but it's a charming quality."

"You're a charming quality."

"It was a compliment."

"Then thank you."

Nisroc smiled at her and rubbed a hand over her lower back, "Will you at least talk to him?"

"I don't have anything to say to him."

"Are you sure? You don't even know him. How do you know you have nothing to say to him if you don't know him?"

She opened her mouth to say something but closed it, he had her in a bind, and he smiled because she knew he knew he did. She pouted and rested her chin on her folded hands. In a rare act of playfulness he leaned forward to peck her on the nose.

"Please, little warrior, for me?"

"But I don' want to."

"Do you want me to convince you?"

"Okay okay! I do it! Nis no!"


	54. Exchange

"Do I really have to?"

She tugged on the hand that she was holding, looking up at the older angel that had walked with her to the garden, her wide eyes met those of her older friend and he smiled down at her.

"I could always persuade you if its needed."

"No that's okay, you're points been made."

The older angel smiled and shook his head at her, she was lucky she was cute, and sometimes he was sure that she knew that too.

"Can you please try and be nice to him?"

"I make no promises and if I go to punch him I trust you'll stop me?"

"You know it."

"Darn…"

He walked with her into the garden, and the sound of voices drifted over to them, her eyes brightened at the sight of Titus, she really loved the Powers and they all loved her to pieces. And then her eyes darkened when they met the site of the boy whom she was no fan of.

Paul had been trying to apologize for what could have been about two weeks, and at every turn he was met with anger and revulsion, Akeelah was a hard cookie to crack unless you knew which buttons to push. And the chief Power knew the buttons one must push. It had been trial and error for them nearly every day, with various different Power's coming back with the same response to him, and with his work out of the way Nisroc decided it was time to take over for his own.

"Now, you remember what I said would happen if you decided to be nasty?"

"That you would convince me to be nice again."

"Good fledgling."

"Like that'll work."

"What?"

"Nothing!", the fledgling smiled up at him brightly and he shook his head with narrowed eyes, no matter, they'd come back to it later. Right now, the task at hand was at least getting her to talk to the young trainee. Akeelah was stubborn, one of the most stubborn fledglings he's had the pleasure of meeting, and he's met many in his lifetime.

They walked into the garden hand in hand, the little fledgling swinging their hands back and forth happily as they did, Titus saw them first and waved in greeting. The fledgling waved back excitedly, letting for of the older angel's hand in order to run forward to hug her friend.

Nisroc stopped next to the young trainee, setting a hand on his shoulder in comfort, "Akeelah."

She huffed in annoyance and turned to look at her friend and the other one.

"But I don't want to!", she whined softly, taking Titus's hand and stepping back. The Chief Power shook his head in warning. "Remember what I told you."

Akeelah knew she as at a crossroads, she knew for a fact that Nisroc never said anything he didn't mean, and that she also didn't want to talk to the meanie. It was time to pick and choose the battle. On one hand she could remain adamant about her stance in not wanting to talk to him or on the other she could be taken by Nisroc again and spend another night at the Pavilion (which hadn't been a bad time last time either). Sighing heavily she nodded, leaning against Titus's side instead, turning an uninterested gaze towards the younger angel standing in front of the Lieutenant.

"What?"

They figured it was as good as they were going to get and didn't push her on the matter of being respectful to someone she did not care for. Paul played with his fingers again and looked down to his feet in shame.

"I'm sorry for being so mean to you."

"You should be, I didn' do nothin' to you!"

He bit his lip to keep from lashing out, he knew it would be a poor decision with two Power's standing nearby, but he couldn't help it sometimes, she could just get on his nerves like nothing else sometimes.

"And for hurting your friend."

"You should be for that too. He didn' do nothin' to you either."

"Little warrior, he is trying."

"So what."

"Baby Power", Titus kneeled down to look her in the eye, "Do you remember how frightened you were to meet us all? And it took most of us actually _apologizing _to get you to start to?", she nodded silently, "He is trying to make amends, it does not mean you can't still be mad at him, he is just trying to right a wrong."

She huffed and nodded, the Power standing back up, giving her little hand a gentle squeeze.

"I forgive you but I still don't like you."

They heaved a sigh. One step at a time.


	55. Champion

"Was that really necessary?"

They had returned to the Garden, stretched out on the soft grass, in another patch of warm sunlight. She lay atop the older angel's chest, staring up at the clouds as they rolled over above them, playing with his fingers that lay resting on her belly.

"What?"

"You know what."

She shrugged and yawned largely, rubbing at her eyes with her other fist, and sighed tiredly.

"You didn't have to beat him in front of the other members of his class."

"He asked if we could fight."

"Akeelah."

She turned over on his chest laying on her stomach instead, laying her chin on her crossed hands, his hand curled around her back and rubbed soothing circles over her back. Nisroc smiled at her and pecked her nose again.

"He should have fought harder then."

"He didn't want to hurt you."

She made a face of disgust and he chuckled softly at it.

"Why are you defending him now!"

"I'm not. I'm just saying that you are being unfair.'

"You are too! I though we were friends first!"

"Oh, the throws of fledgling jealousy. We are indeed friends. I am not replacing you if that's what you fear. Don't be so defensive."

She rubbed at her eyes again, "I'm sorry Nis. I didn't mean to."

"I know little warrior. Take your nap. You are exhausted."


	56. Fear

"Big brother?", the soft little voice had him turning around, "Can I talk to you?"

The Healer nodded towards one of the other healers and knelt in front of their little fledgling, holding out a hand for her take, her little fingers took his and he nodded.

"Of course, little one."

He walked her over to a free bed and lifted her to sit on the soft blankets. She played with the edge of her robe and he waited patiently for her to speak her piece.

"Are you hurt?"

She shook her head and he sighed in relief knowing that she was at least unharmed.

"What's on your mind, little one?"

The fledgling took a deep breath, "I remember a lot.", he tilted his head slightly, "And I'm scared Raphi.", he hummed and reached for her, letting the fledgling climb up into his lap and curl herself in his robes.

"Remember what, little one?"

"The war. I remember it big brother and I'm not as strong as I pretend to be. I'm really scared." He held her close and waited for her to continue "they came one night, when we were all sleeping, and tried to pull us from the others. It was so dark and there was so many of them and I screamed cause I didn't want to go." It broke his heart to hear her voice get so small, it was not fit for her, it didn't mix with her loving personality, "And I remember watching Theo and Thaddeus attacking Zaves friend. I watched from the window. They were horrible big brother. They did so many bad things and he screamed. He screamed so loud. Sometimes I can still hear it!" he pulled her closer and decided this was not something to be discussed in the presence of the others and walked them into his office, sitting in his chair, and cradled the fledgling close to him, "And Naomi. She was so scary big brother. She caught me once and strapped me to this table and had this point thing that made weird little noises and she tried to put it in my eye, but I screamed, and Jeremiah had come looking for me. Big brother, I saw them, they were strewn over in little cell rooms, there was blood coming from their eyes." She told him everything, all the things that she had seen and had kept to herself, and he rocked her as she finished up.

"I thank you for telling me, little one."

She nodded and cuddled in closer to him.

"I'm scared big brother. Don't let me go."

"Never."


	57. Despicable

"You're going to be dead meat once they find out I'm gone."

The little fledgling kicked her feet back and forth in her chair, glaring at the seraph and his two hunters, the angel looked sure of himself, but the two hunters had more sense about them.

"Uh, Cas, not that I'm not down for more help, but uh, are you sure this a good idea? I mean they all seem pretty attached to the kid."

The seraph nodded, folding his hands behind himself, "She will do just fine. Choir angels are known to be able to hypnotize creatures.", he regarded the fledgling handcuffed to the chair before them, the two Winchester brothers exchanged looks behind him, "She will aid us in this next town."

"Sure, I will, right after we become friends, let me know how that goes."

She tugged at the cuff around her little wrist and sighed, "I'd even take dumb _Paul _over you." The fledgling huffed again and turned away from them. She had no intention of being used as a weapon for someone else's commanding. She only listened to those she liked, and sometimes she bit her tongue when it came to others, but she would never do what this seraph asked her to.

"Cas, are you sure that this is a good idea? I mean I don't want to sound ungrateful or anything, but I don't think anyone wants to be on the bad side of _Heaven's Most Terrifying Weapons_."

"They will understand. It is for the betterment of the Host."

"Keep telling yourself that.", they turned to look back at their young captive and she met their gazes evenly, fearlessly despite her predicament, confident in that she would be found and they would pay for their overestimation, "Is that what you say when you betray our brothers and sisters?"

"They were harmful to those they- "

"No.", she looked up at him with burning eyes, "No. They didn't fit the universe you created yourself, didn't succumb to having threats and weapons thrown their way by your big bad humans, so you ran them through. Don't make it sound like you did something for the betterment of the Host.", she bit her lip and shook her head, she hadn't told anyone, not a single soul. "I remember you. We all remember you. Whoever doesn't fall in line behind you meets the end of your blade. You call Michael a tyrant, but I don't thin you've looked into the mirror yourself. You killed almost an entire faction!"

"I was under- "

"You chose to take them in. So, you don't get to use that as a shield. You chose to do everything you did, out for your own free will, and you try and use it to gain yourself pity."

Silence fell over them, the seraph's hand twitched, and he spun around to exit the room.

"You're only running away cause I'm right!"

…

"Have you any luck?"

"Guys!", the response to the inquiry was cut off as the Morningstar joined them at long last, he had been searching nearly all morning, and would have continued had the choir angel not told him what he had seen, "Guys I know where she is.", he explained to them how he'd been flagged down by a shy choir angel, how Rahmiel had told him in a soft tone what he had seen, and who had been the one to do such things. His master had thanked him softly and pet his head gently before the younger angel nodded silently and turned to return to what he had been doing. Lucifer had been quick in reaching out for his brothers' locations and calling them to meet, to relay the news he had, and they listened to everything he had to say with full attention.

When he was through, even the Messenger was fuming, and he was rather fond of the foolhardy seraph who's heart was perhaps in the right place.

Michael hummed deep in his throat and nodded to the Morningstar, "I would say that we should go retrieve our fledgling, but we cannot leave for the rebuilding."

"Then how do we get her back?"

"We will send the Powers."

They agreed to that suggestion, they wouldn't back down from any challenge thrown their way, and while they were softhearted with the fledgling, they would beat anyone who touched her with ill will down with harsh precision. Under the archangels themselves they were the next best thing.

Nisroc had immediately agreed to go fetch the Baby Power, rallying the others in behind him, with controlled rage that someone would dare harm their fledgling member while they stood breathing. They saluted the Commanders and disappeared in a flash.

…

"We get it kid." Dean Winchester cut her off gruffly, "You're not a fan."

"Oh, don't get me started on you Winchester. You don't scare me, I've been there and done that, your about as scary as a fly."

Sam set a hand on his brothers' shoulder when it looked like he was going to say something back, "Dean, she's a kid.", he stepped around his brother, "She's probably just scared."

"Keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better."

He ignored her and kneeled down, "Those can't be comfortable, do you want me to loosen them?"

She shook her head sharply, "I'd rather them be tight then be indebted to you. Don't touch me. And you're the one who should be scared. You think _Castiel _can protect you from what's coming?"

And with that she sat back in her chair and crossed her arms as best as she could, refusing to say more, the hunter blinked and slowly back away.

"Dean, I don't think this is a good idea."

"I don't know man. Cas seems to know what he's doing."

They weren't sure just how far their angel was willing to go to force the little kid into helping them, not until he had returned with the crown of spikes that Crowley had used on that other angel kid; Samandriel. Akeelah watched him in fear as he slowly unscrewed the spikes from the crown, the hunters watching in uncertainty, but they did nothing to intervene when he got the last spike released and held it over the young choir angels head, her terrified eyes staring up at it from under him.

"You will help us. You are to serve for the betterment of Mankind."

She watched in horror as the crown was lowered, whimpering in terror when it was settled over her forehead, and he slowly started screwing the spike in the center inwards. The tip just poked into her skin, a small bead of blood dripping down her nose, and she screamed.

It was a high pitched, echoing, scream of terror. It bounced off the tiled walls, loud and harsh, making the humans bend over on themselves in pain. Their hands pressing to their ears, trying to block out the agonizing sound, Castiel back away in surprise, his twisting of the spike halting. The surprise quickly passed, and he began to turn the spike again. Tears spilled from her eyes as the spike slowly turned into her temple, screaming in pain and horror, there was a crash that had him spinning around. His hand reached for his blade and was immediately halted at the tip of a sword pointed right under his chin.

"Nisroc, have you been sent to aid us in this town?"

"I am here to take back what is not yours to take."

The two Winchester brothers were trapped against the wall by two tall Powers, the others flanking their Chief, Akeelah breathed out a relieved sob and reached her hand cuffed hands up for him. His eyes darkened at the sight of their Baby Power with a crown of spikes ready to be drilled into her head, one nearly halfway there.

"Torturing a fledgling is a new low even for you Castiel."

He motioned over his shoulder with his hand and two more broke off, shoulder checking the younger angel as they passed him, causing the edge of the sword to cut into his neck.

Titus knelt in front of her, wiping away the tears with his thumbs, "Be strong Baby Power. We are here now." She nodded as best as she could, watching cross-eyed as he slowly unscrewed the spike in the center and pulled the crown up and off her head. Raguel was next to him, and waiting, to take the little angel into his arms. She sobbed into his shoulder, curling around him as if he were a figment of her imagination. He tucked her head in closer with a gentle hand, and stepped back around to stand behind his Chief, Nisroc raised the sword higher and Castiel was forced to tilt his head back in reaction.

"If you ever touch our Baby Power again there will be nothing left for Father to restore."


	58. Fussy

It was a nice change of pace to have a fledgling that wasn't fussy when they couldn't taken them with them when they left to attend to their duties. It wasn't often that they denied her request to come with them through the day, only on certain circumstance; such as when the prisoners were taken from the prison to have their monthly check with the healers, or when the new classes were indicted on the training field and over half of it filled with younglings who didn't know either end of a sword but still knew how to fight for themselves or when the choir was trying to recover a large end of the Pantheon that fledglings had no place being.

So, it did come as a surprise when the little fledgling had curled both of her hands around the oldest archangel's left hand and refused to let go despite his gentle attempts to get her to.

"Please, little one, I will only be away for a few hours at most. You will hardly even know that I am missing."

"No, big brother, please don't leave me!"

"I would take you with me, but today is not a good day, too many inexperienced hands gaining swords is no place a fledgling should be lest you get unintentionally harmed."

She tugged on his hand incessantly, "No! Please don't go, please big brother! I don't want you to go! Please!"

He knelt, cupping her chin in his free hand and lifted her head so their eyes may meet, it was concerning that she was so upset about him leaving and he loath to leaver her in such a state but this was something he could not miss even if he truly wanted to for her sake.

"Will you tell me why?"

When she shook her head and bit her lip, he heaved a sigh and stood, gently prying her fingers from his left hand. Her eyes watered and she instead latched onto the right.

"I can't help you if you won't tell me how, little one."

He managed to pry her fingers off his right hand and turned to step away, but she jumped and latched onto the bottom of his shirt, little tears glistening in her eyes.

"Please big brother! Pleeease! Don't go! Don't leave me!"

"I need to know what is wrong so I can help you, little one.", his fingers curled around hers and tugged them free, kneeling one last time, letting her fingers curl back around his, "It pains me to see you like this."

"I c-cant! Please! Please don't leave me! I don' want to be alone! Please!"

"I just can't bring you today, tomorrow is fine again, I just can't today."

"Pleease big brother, Pleeease!"

"Why do you not want to be alone? You like being able to run around wherever you can when you're not with us."

She rubbed at her watery eyes with the back of her other hand, the one clutching at his fingers not budging in the slightest, and she looked back up at him pitifully.

"B'cause todays the day!"

"The day of what, little one?"

"W-When we went in! W-We went in and it got so dark! T-There was no one else there! I-It was just us! Please don't let me be stuck in the dark again big brother! Please don't leave me!"

It was heartbreaking, of course she would remember the day the Choir Angels had sealed themselves into the Pantheon, and it was hard to think of what it must have been like for a small fledgling as she had been. Having just lost her master, and then seeing the war build up until it broke all around them, it would have been terrifying to anyone.

He wrapped his arm around her, just under her bottom, and stood back up again but this time he brought her with him.

"I will never leave you alone, my little fledgling, never. You may come then, but stay at my side, alright?"

She didn't grant him a verbal response, simply nodded quickly, hiding her went cheeks in his neck. He rubbed his hand in soothing circles over her back as he stepped out into the garden around them and opened his wings. Their flight had been in silence, the fledgling still clutching to him, not wanting him to let go. And he wouldn't, not until he was asked to, of it was needed for him to do something that required his hands or arms, and even then, it was to only pass her over to another until he could take her back up again.

His Chief Power looked confused to see him with a fledgling attached to his front, clearly having been told ahead of time of her absence on this particular day, and he fell into step with him quickly as he walked to the front of the new class.

"Sir, I thought you said she wasn't going to come."

"She wasn't. Today is just a bad day."

It warmed him to see his Power look so concerned for the fledgling, it was obvious she had stolen their hearts, it wasn't hard for her to do to most everyone she met.

"Is everything alright?"

Michael tucked her further under his chin, against his chest, and whispered in reply, "It is the anniversary of when they locked themselves in their self-made prison."

He nodded, looking to his little friend sadly, "I can't imagine that was a good memory."

"It may have been more damning then any of us thought. She is terrified of being alone today."

They stood at the front of the line, just behind Titus and Raguel as they finished up their explaining of how things worked, and they both turned to hand it over to the Commander and their eyes widened much like their Chief's had at the sight of their little friend.

"Is everything okay with the Baby Power?"

The others behind them watched curiously as the Commander whispered something in response and just managed to get the fledgling, he was holding to move to the Head Power's arms instead of his own. Nisroc cradled her close, something they would not have expected from the legendary Power commander, and he turned away from them to see to the other classes who were much more accustomed at seeing the fledgling then the new class was.

Michael clapped his hands and their attention shifted.

Once Titus and Raguel had taken over, and the Commander had left them with their teachers, they spotted him take his fledgling back from the Chief Power. He had promised that he would not let her go, not for long, and he didn't make promises he couldn't keep.


	59. Sleep

They quickly learned, something that they had deduced came as a side affect to the war that had been lived through, that their fledgling could take a nap practically anywhere. Some of the places they had found her had nearly taken years off their long lives, and it was no better for the others who found her either.

Joshua had been tending to the trees when he spotted the little foot hanging over a low hanging branch, standing up just a tad straighter, the tall garden just managed to catch a glimpse of the little person sleeping so soundly against the side of one of his trees. He smiled knowingly; this little guest was no new visitor to these parts. He returned to watering his plants and made a mental note to alert her guardians later. Perhaps after they realized she was missing and began to worry. He had to have his own entertainment of course, and that was hard to come by surrounded by the plants he so loved, but perhaps before they worried too much and ordered the legions to go looking for her.

The next of her friends to discover this odd little quirk was the chief Power, he had been watching over the younger classes through their beginnings of real training, when the baby Power had separated from his side and wandered off. He paid it no mind, turning to watch as she disappeared a moment later, she enjoyed walking amongst the training warriors, and they all enjoyed seeing her smile as she did. It was no joke when it was said that she was the most powerful angel in all of heaven. She had Heaven's most powerful angels wrapped around her finger and the next best things wrapped around the other. It wasn't until the sun began setting and she had not returned to his side that worry had begun to set in, the Commander had business to attend to at another place, and while the fledgling was free to wander as she pleased, she was to tell someone where she was intending on going. It was a new rule they were trying to implement, a slow process, but they had managed to curb the slightly violent tendency with the fledgling with the whole corner ideal. He turned in worry, looking for his little friend, she had to be around somewhere as she had not told him or any of the others that she was leaving. He had nearly ordered the others to begin scouting for their little member when his eyes focused onto something huddled against a wooden post just on the other side of the newest recruits training area. Titus relieved them for the day and followed his gaze, smiling at the sight he was welcomed to.

"I'm almost jealous at how easy she does it."

"Our Baby Power nearly scared a good thousand years off my life."

"You're getting soft, sir."

"Come closer and I'll show you how soft I've become."

They smiled at each other though, all in jest, the respect between them was deep and strong, the friendship even more so, and it was easy to see how they were all soft when it came to their young friend. Of course, they would kick anyone to the dust if they dared lay a hand on her, as one unfortunate sucker had been quick to learn the harder of ways, and they had no doubts she would come to their aid as much as she could in return.

The two of them walked to her, smiling at the soft even breaths that she produced as they drew nearer, and Nisroc bent to lift her up. Adjusting himself when she curled around him instead, little head of braids finding his shoulder, and her soft sigh brushed against his neck as she fell back into her slumber. He pressed his hand to her back as they turned once more, heading in the direction of the others waiting for them at the other end of the field. As they drew neared, they all smiled softly at the sight of their baby member sleeping so soundly on their chiefs' shoulder.

"Someone had an exciting day?"

The others chuckled at Haniel's soft exclamation and again when Nisroc reached out to smack him over the head with a whispered warning against waking the sleeping fledgling, despite his carrying her. She didn't stir in the slightest and remained out to the world around her, as they turned as one and headed into their Pavilion, the Commander would be around later to see to her wellbeing and there was no doubt on their minds that she would still be out when he did.

She had nearly given the healers a heart attack when she had done it in the Infirmary, they had noticed her disappearance fifteen minutes after they had last seen her hopping about and humming under her breath mindless tunes that had a special calming effect on the patients staying due to injuries requiring further tending, she had even struck up small conversations with the prisoner among them, Gadreel had slowly opened up to her presence, most certainly having something to do with her being there when he was saved (they had _all _seen or heard of her attack on Theo that dreadful day) and though the relationship was still new and somewhat shy on both sides, they got along well.

Her disappearance was something akin to the sun being hidden by a passing cloud, it seemed to dim the entire place without her bright carefree personality there to bring them all real life. They still had to tend to their patients obviously, but it didn't stop them from looking about to see if they could spot her, it wasn't until Oren had spotted a small foot hanging from above them did, he finally alert someone.

His eyes were wide, staring at the dangling appendage, as he pat the Healers shoulder distractedly.

He sighed and finally turned to see what was the matter, "Yes, yes Oren?", the healer was distracted by something and he followed the younger angels gaze to see what had captured his attention, his eyes widened as he saw what had taken it hostage and his mouth dropped open just slightly in surprise "How did she even _manage _to get up there?", his healer had finally stopped patting on his shoulder and gave him a long suffering look as if to silently convey their unsaid exasperation at giving up at finding such answers. She was small and lithe and therefore fit into places that others couldn't, hence the reason she was curled up on one of the wooden beams above them, little foot dangling over the side.

They watched as the Healer sighed fondly, shook his head, and opened his great emerald wings. Despite having the ability to fly, it was not as common to do in Heaven as most thought it was, a majority of the time they walked to their destinations, unless it was a long distance away such as the training fields or the far gates. Or, it seemed, to gather up stray fledglings who managed to get into the strangest of places to sleep.

Raphael hovered over them with one sweep of his wings and plucked the fledgling up from her perch, cradling her against his chest as he touched to the floor again, tucking his wings back to where they were kept when not in use and smiled when the little fledgling nuzzled closer and fell back into peaceful slumber.

How she had gotten up there remains a mystery to them all.

The Messengers invitation into the mess wasn't as nerve wracking as the last ones had been, Zaveriel hadn't been to joke with him yet and he had grown concerned and stepped out of his office. The chattering in the halls of the other messengers was muted to a low whisper for something beyond his understanding but made no move to stop them as they went on their way. Being a messenger was no slow-paced job, it took a lot of time, and was constant moving.

He wandered down the hallway and saw the back of his lieutenant's head as he drew nearer to the atrium in the middle of the Aerie. He smiled as he stepped down onto the dirt trail heading towards the center, confused as to why the troublemaking angel was sitting out here silently reading a book instead of messing about with the others inside.

"Whatcha doing kiddo?"

"Hanging out."

Zaves didn't look up from his book as he answered, licking a finger dramatic like and flipped the page, causing the archangel to roll his eyes and take the seat next to him.

"I can see that squirt. I _meant _whatcha doing out here?"

"Keeping guard."

Another lick to the finger and the page turned in similar fashion as the last one was.

"Guarding what?"

"Not _'what_. Watching _who_?"

And to that he pointed up above them and the Messenger followed his finger up to the tree branches and spotted a little foot dangling over the side of one. He tilted his head in wonder.

"What's Akeelah doing up there?"

"Sleeping."

Another page turned and he was still staring above him at the little foot.

"I can see that. Why is she sleeping up there?"

"She likes being up high. Don't ask why. I don't know why. She just does."

It wasn't much of a surprise that her master seemingly already knew of her strange ability, and it showed one night when they had all returned from their duties and gathered around the table as they usually did, minus their youngest member perched on someone's knee and sipping at Raphael's mug when she thought he wasn't looking.

When asked about it the Morningstar merely smiled and pat the tabletop, "She is sleeping."

"Where?"

"Under the table."

True to his word, when they looked under, there she was sound asleep, curled up on her side with her head resting on her little arm. Lucifer bent low to scoop her up, curling his arms around her as she turned to curl into him in kind, sleeping blissfully on despite the change of position.

He met their looks of disbelief at the calmness about him, "Oh didn't you know? This little one can fall asleep anywhere. Used to be a pain in the butt, let me tell you, but it warms up to you quick."


	60. Wound

It had come out of nowhere, an attack made by a furious Prince outside the gates, they had not been happy that they had been passed over in naming someone as regent in the Morningstar's stead while he was away. The Powers had been a nearly unbeatable force, cutting through them as if they were canon fodder, but slowed down as the Knights of Hell fell into the fight too. The Principalities joined in on the fray, standing at the Power's backs when it came to having their six. Zaveriel and Nisroc wound up back to back, slashing and hacking in sync with each other, as the tap on his back the older angel knelt down, the messenger swinging his double-edged staff over his head, taking the heads off the two demon knights in one foul swoop.

The messengers were quick and lithe, perhaps not as muscularly as their Power companions, but held their own with ease. They were not to be underestimated.

Grigori jumped into the fray, backing against the Principalities and Powers, they had been cast just as their Commander had, and while the others fought with honor (though some might turn an eye here and there) the Grigori had once been on the other side and fought by their own rules, even if it meant fighting dirty.

"Down!"

Zaveriel had drawn his bow, notched three arrows, and gave the command that the Power chief followed in quick succession, bending over on himself. The young messenger flipped over his back, letting his arrows go, and they found their home in three demons' temples. Though the younger angel was a bit on the spazzed side there was no one else Nisroc would rather have fighting at his back, the other was an energetic kid, but he had perhaps the best aim in all the Legions.

"Kokabiel!"

The Grigori fighting at the Power's left turned at the sound of her name, thick black ponytail whipping around as she turned, Semyaza, her captain, was knelt with his fingers interlocked together. She nodded silently and took a running start, stepped into his hands, and was thrown up into the air. She flipped once and dove, her short sword held above her head ready to strike, and she cut her sword deep into the flesh of a Prince. Dumah howled in pain, backing away to grab at her shoulder. Lucifer looked surprised at her sudden appearance but quickly adapted into a fighting style working around the advantage of having her at his side. She was a short angel, but fierce, and spun her two daggers with ease, kneeling in front of him and fighting from underneath.

"Move!"

Nisroc stumbled forward as hands plowed into his lower back and turned in time to see the young messenger get smacked on the side of the head with the butt of a sword. He stumbled back slightly dazed for a moment and swung his blade around to chop the demons head off. It concerned him from there, the messenger didn't seem to recover and every time he looked over the younger was shaking his head as if to clear it.

The battle they fought was long and fierce, but eventually the Princes were cut down; one by one (Kokabiel had taken enjoyment on being the one to behead Dumah) and they retreated.

From that point the head Power kept his watch over the messenger that had fought at his side dutifully. Somehow, he had managed to keep under the Healers attentions, though perhaps it had something to do with the dozens of other needing tending to too, he returned to bind the wound he had procured on his left forearm and he was able to finally speak his piece.

"You took a heavy blow. Perhaps you should get it looked after."

The messenger waved him off, "It was just a knock. I'll be okay." Despite his words the Power reached out quickly to catch him as he nearly fell as he turned to step away. The messenger thanked him softly and moved on to the next, working just as diligently as the other healers tending to the wounded.

Slowly the Infirmary started to empty, other Legions from various choirs heading back to their own homes to rest and recover there, the Powers waited on each other and took leave as one unit. Nisroc had whispered something to the Healer as he made his leave, and from where he was holding himself up on the edge of a bed, Zaveriel could see their eyes turn to him.

"Zaves?"

The little voice startled him from his thoughts, and he turned his head, perhaps a bit too quickly, to see the wide eyes of his greatest friend looking up at him. The fledgling had been hidden deep within the Aerie at the start of the attack, huddled under Gabriel's desk, and must have snuck out sometime during the fight or soon after.

"Hey."

"You're hurt.", she pointed to the side of his head where the feeling of warm blood was trickling down the side of his temple. "You should tell someone so they can help."

"I do believe she has made a good point."

The deep familiar voice of his old commander had him flinching, casting his friend a betrayed look, she giggled and scurried off to see how her master was faring. The young messenger turned slowly, to meet the electric blue eyes of the Healer, he reached out a hand and prodded at the wound on his temple with gentle fingers, but he still flinched at the touch.

"Why didn't you say something?", he was led to one of the empty beds with a gentle grip on his left arm and pushed to sit, and then to lay. The Healer brushed his hair back to examine the wound closer. "You could have serious damage, I would have thought I taught you better to hide an injury, especially to the head."

"What can I say?", he tried to smile cheekily up to his former flock master, "I can be a bit hardheaded."

"If you didn't possibly have a concussion, I would smack you over the head myself. This is no joking matter Zaveriel."

"I'm sorry."

He looked down again, a bit more subdued, as the Healer reached for a rag to dab away the dripping blood and see to the wound more closely then before. Raphael hummed as he examined it, nodding to himself, reaching for some poultice to rub over it and a bandage to wrap around it.

"Does your master know?"

"No."

"Why didn't you tell anyone?", the Healer finished binding it and looked down to him, "At the very least you could have told me. It hurts that I had to find out from another giving me soft warning."

Zaveriel looked down again, "I've never really come for help though."

"Oh, I know, don't forget I was your original master. I know you more then you think I do. You've always been one to try and deal with injuries on your own." The younger angel nodded, and he tapped the underside of his chin until he looked up, "But you are no longer a fledgling. Such things won't be tolerated even if I am slightly more fond of you."

The young messenger shrugged, wincing when it cause his head to throb, and lowered his shoulders again.

"I didn't want to be a burden."

"That's nonsense and you know it. Have I ever said such things about you?"

"Well, no but- "

"No butts, next time I will be forced to tell your master, lean back.", he stared up at his former master as he did as he was told, feeling the blanket be pulled over him and slightly tucked, not breaking his stare, "You mean you won't tell my boss-man?"

"Not this time, no, but I won't be so kind if this should happen again.", and large dark hand rubbed at his head gently, mindful of the ache, but tender in affection, "And in return you will come visit more. I feel as though the only time I see you is when you are either injured or playing tricks on us with that little friend of yours."

"I'm a busy guy, old boss-man."

"Then make time. How busy can you truly be? I see you running all over. You'd best stop in and say hello time to time."

Just because the young angel had moved from under him, to being under his brother, didn't mean his fondness for him as gone with him in the move, Zaves was like his friend Akeelah in that manner. It was hard not to grow fond of him, he was easy to befriend, and his friendship could also turn into a valuable ally if the need arose for it. Just look at him and Nisroc, they couldn't be any more different in personality, but they remained as good friends and wouldn't to have anyone else to have at their back in the midst of battle.

"I didn't know you cared about me so much."

"If I come back around here in the next ten minutes and you are not asleep…"

He left the threat hanging as he walked away, followed by the soft laughter from the young messenger, and true to his word he did return to check on him ten minutes later. It was a sight, the messenger's little friend, their fledgling, had returned to his side and they had fallen asleep on each other. Akeelah tucked under his arm and him resting his head a top hers. He woke him slightly, as one must do when dealing with concussions, and let him drift back off a minute later, draping a blanket over the two of them with a shake of his head.

"Tha's big b'other."

The Healer rubbed a hand over the fledglings braided head, "You are most welcome, little one."


	61. Threat

**AN: A quick shout out to everyone who's reviewed, fav'd, or followed this! You guys are my worlds man! Special shout out to Robin0203 and cutecookielove who had commented on EVERY CHAPTER you guys are the true inspiration that keeps me going here! You guys are amazing! thank you so much!**

**AAN: All of these drabbles are separate though some of them are lightly tied together. There might be some referenced in the future but for the most part they are stand alone save for certain ones, and you'll know those ones when you see them!**

**AAAN: Again, thanks guys! You are all amazing peoples!**

"You can't tell anyone."

The fledgling stared at him with uninterested eyes and set the flower she'd been depetalling in her leisurely pace, giving him her full attention, the warrior in training looked as serious as someone their age could be."

"Can't tell anyone that you used to lure people to the mind-breaker?"

"Especially Nisroc!"

She stood, brushing the flakes of flower petals off of her robes, and she crossed her arms tightly. A glare had fallen over her eyes as she continued to listen to the one trainee that she detested with nearly all her being, no all of it though, that was more effort then she was willing to give to this particular sibling. Paul stared at her intensely, not willing to break eye contact until he got her word that she wouldn't say a thing, the fledgling was hard to read though and there was not a single sign to prove that she was being pushed over.

"What makes you think he doesn't already know?", she tilted her head to the side, "He's not dumb."

"I just know he doesn't! He knows she was my guardian but not what she had me do to the others!"

Akeelah looked him over, as if sizing him up, and deciding just how much of a threat he could be if she refused to promise to his request. It was something she could tell them just out of spite, the others may have seemingly forgiven him, but she was under the impression that he didn't deserve.

Not after the things he had done.

It was personal between the two of them.

"Afraid that he'll turn disown you if he knew?", she smiled in what was an attempt to be a sweet smile, but it came out slightly twisted, "You would be outcasted if anyone of them knew what you did?"

"Akeelah, I know you don't like me, but I'm begging you. Do you hear me?", he stepped forward, "_Begging _you. Please don't tell anyone. If you keep my secret, then I'll keep yours."

Her eyes narrowed slightly, and she resisted the urge to push him back, the fledgling was learning to not resort to such things when angered by those she didn't like. But he wasn't going to hold things over her head, they had all done things that they regretted amidst the fighting of the war, even those as young as the fledgling flocks.

"Only because of what you did. You can't hold that over me."

"They'll never forgive you if they knew what you did!"

"They'd never forgive _you _if they knew what _you _did!"

Both young angels glared at one another, their history was long and rugged, but it was something they lived with. They weren't friends and would probably never be, but they did have dirt on the other, dirt that the intended victim would never want people to know.

She huffed deeply and nodded, holding out her hand, "Deal.", her fingers were crossed behind her back.

…

The promise came into play during the afternoon of a humid day of training, it was going to rain later that evening, that they all knew due to the heat and stickiness to the air. They were in the middle of midday break, resting from the intense morning of hand to hand combat training, sprawled around in various positions in the cool grass, the only thing cool about that day.

It could be blamed on the heat of the day, heating tempers to their boiling points, there had been a number of warriors who had gotten a bit too zealous through the combat training that needed to take a break sooner than the others and had been relieved to cool down before real damage was done.

None of them would be able to defend should an attack come if they were injured because of boiling tempers being lost.

Akeelah had stepped over a large warrior, one of the archers, sprawled out on his back amidst the cool grace, hand draped over his eyes to block out the shining sun, stumbling when her foot caught on his sleeve. He was quick in sitting up to apologize, but she had already moved on, stumbling forward, and spilled the vat of water, she had been carrying over to the others to have some cool water to help them cool off, all over the nearest trainee.

They jumped to their feet in the shock of being soaked by the frigid cold water, hands held out as they stared down at themselves in shock, she immediately glared right back. If they were pups their hackles would have been raised, baby fangs bared at one another, and they stood off right in the midst of the gathered warriors.

The others knew of their relationship, they knew of how volatile it was, and some ways down the line of the front liners training today the Powers stood from their various positions with the intention of separating them before words and hits could fly.

"Watch where you're going!"

"Watch where you're sitting!"

They both made the first move at the same time, perhaps the heat forcing their boiling animosity boil over on them, their tempers lost as the trainee rushed forward with a hard push and she swung the bucket around to hit him in the side of the head with it. Vaguely they heard their names being called but the voice went ignored, as she stumbled back from the harsh shove and he fell to the side from the violent swing of the bucket, they both fell into the dirt in various precarious sprawling positions.

He touched a hand to his head as it throbbed, and she curled her little fingers around her ankle as it ached.

The others around them stood, circling around, slowing the nearing approach of the Powers; their names still on their lips.

They both glared at the other, climbing back up to their feet despite their ailments, she grabbing a rock next to her hand and he reaching down for the knife kept in his bootstraps ignoring the harsher calls of their names as the Power's pushed their way through the crowd that had formed. They jumped right back into each other's faces. This time she rushed forward with a rock aimed for the other side of his face, and him trying slash at her with the small knife he kept hidden in his boot, their throws met their intended targets. Her rock knocked him back again, his knife sticking into her side, the rage that filled them backed by the shared history they had.

What most didn't know is that they had met before, when both were fledglings under the care of their guardians, living through the war time. Jeremiah had been a gentle guardian, and he had watched the two of them with jealousy, while Naomi had been a cruel guardian, to which she had watched in terror.

It was dark, twisted, and only something that _they _shared.

She whimpered as she gripped the hilt of the knife and pulled it out of her flesh, gasping at the stabbing pain that radiated up her side and through her arm. He shook his head to clear his vision, his head blurry and muffled, as though he was underwater.

A moment passed and they both climbed back to their feet, the rock curled in his fingers now, and his knife held securely in hers, squaring off against each other. Some feet away the Powers had managed to finally break through the line and were rushing the rest of the way to get to them before even more damage could be done, but soon everyone was forced into stilled silence as they were given visual into what it was the some of the younger generations has suffered through. Most assumed it was the warriors who suffered the greatest losses, and when it came to numbers that was truth, but there was so many left unaccounted for that was perhaps the greatest loss.

It was Paul who broke their shared promise of silence first, hand pressing to the bleeding right side of his temple, glaring right at the one who had been responsible for so much of his pain, "Do it! You know you want to! It wouldn't be the first time you _killed _someone!", when she reached up to point the knife at him.

Around them, a collective breath was sucked in, as eyes turned to look at the small fledgling in shock. They knew that the younger generations had lived through much horrors, but enough to actually kill someone, it was nearly unthinkable. To think that the witty, sarcastically adorable fledgling who they enjoyed having join them when they trained, was capable of taking another's life and actually _had _taken such a precious gift from someone was enough to shock anyone silent. The Powers stopped mid step, staring at her in horror, not at the aspect that she had killed another, but at the thought that she was put into the position to where she felt she had to.

She ignored their stares and glared right back at the older boy, thrusting her chin to the rock he had curled tightly in his hand, "Go ahead! Bash me in the head with it! Do as you were _taught_! It wouldn't be the first time you messed with others' minds, _mindbreaker_!", when he held it up in a threatening way.

"I didn't want to!"

"But you did!"

They squared off, stepping closer as they shouted at one another, the pent-up anger at the other that had been gained during the fighting of the war finally spilling over. No one moved this time, shocked into silence as they continued on, it broke some of them to know the horrors that the younger generations has faced at the hands of those who had taken advantage of the situation.

"I didn't take a life!"

"No! You did worse than that! A life worse than death!"

And stepped closer, they were in striking range, and still no one moved to stop them. Their eyes smoldering at the other as they glared.

"You took Ishariel! She was mine! She protected me!"

"You took Armers! He was little, he trusted you, and you tricked him!"

"You killed my sister!"

"You rewrote my brother!"

"You didn't even bat an eye when you shoved that blade into her chest!"

"You didn't blink as you drove the drill in his head!"

They were face to face now, and though he was taller then her, she didn't back down in the slightest.

"You have blood on your hands!"

"_You _have blood on _your _hands!"

"_Killer_!"

"_Mindbreaker_!"

Breaking out of their awed reverie, the Powers ran forward, separating the two younger angels before their weapons of choice could be thrown. Raguel easily snatched the knife from her little fingers as he tugged her away with an arm wrapped around her waist, Puriel followed suit with the young trainee, forcing him to drop the rock as he lifted him away from their Baby Power, and both of them grunted as the two of them struggled against their holds, reaching out for the other again.

"You're just scared that Nisroc will turn you _away_ because you used to _lure_ angels to their deaths! How many did you _willingly_ drill into! How many _screams_ did you _ignore_! How many of us did you _watch_ thrash strapped to that table as _your_ guardian broke them!"

"You're just scared that they'll all learn how many _lives _are on your hands! That they'll all _shun _you when they find out how many of us you've _killed! _How much blood is on your hands! Their stained with it! You're not innocent!"

"I did it because I had to!"

"I did it because _I _had to!"

_"__Enough."_

The Power in question cut them both silent with a harsh, deep, command. He stepped in between them both, giving them the same dark and stern look, and they fell silent as their eyes widened. His eyes jumped between the two of them as he addressed the two at his sides.

"Haniel, go alert the Commander. Abraxos, go alert the Choir Master. We will meet in our Commander's office."

Their youngest members remained silent as he ordered the others gathered back to their training harshly, and they all dispersed quickly as to not ignite the mild tempered Chief's legendary temper. And they turned to march to the Commanders office to wait for the two master's arrival.


	62. Underground

Zaves was digging a hole. Akeelah was sitting nearby watching, munching on a gooey honeycomb, but Zaves was digging a hole. It stopped those passing by to watch in amused confusion as the messenger dug into the soft dirt under him.

He was nearly waist deep when he sat down, motioning for his friend to join him, and she did. Bringing her treat with her, she hopped down into the hole beside him, and took a seat as she licked at the honey on her fingers.

An hour later and that's where the Messenger found them.

"What on earth are you two doing?"

"We're goin' underground man! Sticking it to the big guy!"

"You two are more trouble then your worth sometimes.", he eyed the hole in amused fascination, "Joshua is going to have a cow."

"He's the one who gave me the shovel."


	63. Hidden

Having to tell the two oldest master's about the shared passed between the two adversaries that had been gained through the way had not been something that the Chief Power had wanted to do on that day. It was not something that came to him easily, breaking him deep in his heart to know that they had suffered so much at the hands of those that were meant to protect them, it was on all of their hands that the young flocks suffered such horrors, and it was not easy for the two Masters to hear if one was to go by their distressed reactions.

Lucifer had leaned back against the fine stone wall behind him, head bent, and his hands covering his face.

Michael did not appear much better, eyes wide in surprise, a hand rubbing at his mouth before curling around his chin.

Neither of them knew what to say or how to address the issue at hand. Did they punish the two of them for acting out so violently with one another, it was most certainly unexpected that they had lashed out so horrendously, resorting to bashing one's head with a rock and stabbing a knife into one's side. Or did they assure them that they were not going to be shunned by actions that were forced on them by the horrendous actions of others tricking down the lines until it reached the youngest casualties of their savage war.

They were as silent as the others had been down in the training fields, it was a bombshell that none would have assumed to have dropped on them though they should have expected to have received at some point. Most of the happenings to the others that didn't like of the front lines went for the most part unshared, it was stories that stayed to those who were in them, and never shared with anyone else.

Michael rubbed his chin one more time, then bowed his head to rub at his temple, heaving a sigh. The Morningstar hadn't moved for nearly ten minutes from the position he had fallen in when the Chief had dropped such a bomb on them that had torn them apart, and though it was done with as gentle a way as it could be, was still just as devastating.

He was the first to speak up, "Titus, go fetch Raphael, bring Rahael with him.", the Power saluted and flew off in a hurry to gather the two that were desired, "I don't know how to respond to this.", Nisroc was confused for a moment as for the request to bring Rahael, the Healer made sense as to tend to their injuries, but the other angel was a mystery to him. And then it dawned on him.

Rahael was the healer for mental illness.

The young angels were suffering, and perhaps in more way's then they even knew, and this was the best way to get the full diagnoses on how to deal with these volatile behaviors. Though they had never gotten along in the past, this was by far one of the most violent outbursts between the two of them, it was something that had shocked them all.

Lucifer looked up at the name of the other angel finally broke through his self-reverie, "Rahael?"

"I want to know the true extent of this pain they are living through. It will aid us better in helping them move passed what they are suffering through. It pains me to see such young angels having lived through so much. To be forced in such situations."

Titus returned nearly five minutes later with the other two in tow, breathing quickly as though he had rushed as quick as he could to gather them up and get back before too long a time had passed, he had done well.

The two healing angels listened closely as the details of the midday rest were shared with them, Rahael had nodded in understanding and Raphael had gone pale in color. They both thanked the Chief Power for relaying the information he had, it was obvious that it pained him to do so, he was obviously very fond of the two young ones in question; having taken one under his wing in training and adopting the other as an unofficial member of his Legion.

They left them standing in the hall as they entered the grand office, closing the door behind them, leaving the others to stand silently in the hall neither of them sure as to what they were meant to say now given the tense circumstance they found themselves in.

The door opened ten minutes later, and Raphael stepped out, closing it once more behind him, turning to update them on the happenings.

"They will both be fine, physically that is to say, I don't want the boy to do any vigorous training in the next coming weeks. I will see him again in the next coming weeks to see the progress of the injury to update any restrictions at that time. In case of any concussions I want him monitored while sleeping, wake him every two hours and keep him awake for five minutes before letting him return to sleep."

Nisroc nodded at the orders, taken them to memory, he took any injury seriously when it came to any of the trainees under his charge, but especially those of the younger varieties.

"As for our little flock mate, her ankle is fractured, only the adrenaline of the moment taking the pain away for her to stand on it. She is to take it easy and not walk on that ankle until it heals in the next coming weeks."

"And Rahael?"

"He knows what he is doing."

Both of the master's nodded in time with the Chief Power again, the young fledgling was going to continue in her attempts to come see them all, despite the pain in her ankle when she did.

Silence fell over them again as the revelation continued to sink into them all.

Rahael joined them some time later, in turn closing the door softly behind him, and stepped up to join them all where they had gathered in the hall. The four of them turned to him in silent inquiry, and he sighed, looking to the floor for a moment before returning their gaze.

"They have both suffered through so much, it hurts me to know such things, the pain they have lived through is greater then we shall ever know and part of me is grateful for it despite how wrong it is to say."

He turned first to the Morningstar, why not start with the youngest in question, "There is so much. That fledgling in there has suffered in more ways then we will ever possibly know. She is a strong little thing to come out of it all as strong as she has. She is truly a warrior at heart.", Lucifer nodded, that much they agreed on wholeheartedly, "Agreed.", the healer smiled at the affection in his tone for the aforementioned fledgling, "The biggest concern is PTSD, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, we can see as much in her restlessness, the sudden bouts of anger and irritability. Recurring memories of times past haunt her though she hides it well, she it perhaps the strongest fledgling I have ever seen. Separation Anxiety is my second diagnoses, the fear of being separated from those she has deemed to be safe places, and the constant need to be around them, hear them, see them. She is suffering in self-imposed silence, fearful that if what is perceived to be weakness is to be seen again, it will be used against her once more. "

Lucifer nodded, again, a serious expression taking over him, "How do we help?"

"Keep her close but also at arm's length, she latches on to you because of the engrained loneliness that came from their self-imprisonment, you all stand for protection against the darkness that comes at the unexpected moments, Show her that it is okay to be on her own, stay in range of site, so that she may know you are there. Leave her to her own on the assurance of where you will be if she need you. Have patience and understanding, I am to understand that she has shared some of her many secrets with you?"

The Morningstar looked surprised when his direct younger brother nodded to the younger healer that served under him, while he was Healer for all of Heaven, there were some who specialized in certain aspects, thus the reason he knew to trust Rahael's word without question.

The younger healer nodded to him, "She said as much, ensure that she knows you are all there should she want to talk, but do not push the matter, let her come to you at her own pace. And above all, show her the love that there is for her, she is fearful that she will be shunned if you know such perceived weakness, show her that she has a place among you despite it all."

Lucifer thanked him softly and left them with a nod, turning to enter the office to gather up his fledgling, where they could both return home. He would fill the Messenger in on everything today later, but for right now he had to be there for his fledgling, this was her time of need and he would not fail her again.

Rahael turned to the Commander next, sparing the Power the same glance, they were both involved in the young warrior in training's life, "As for the other one, he too suffers from the same PTSD, no doubt from his time under the mindbreaker's tutelage. Again, seen in the anger and irritability, constantly being on guard in the thought of acting against others before they can act against you. Secondly I would diagnose him with Disinhibited Social Engagement Disorder, shown often in children who were raised with a lack of appropriate nurturing and affection from those meant to act as caregivers and as such has resulted in him keeping everyone else at arms distance, not able to bond too deeply to those considered caregivers, combined with the youth and the fearlessness at meeting strangers, he is bound to latch onto someone, as I am to understand one of you already know such things?"

The Chief Power nodded, young Paul had taken to him, and perhaps he to the young boy, coming to him now during breaks and before training and after it completed for the day. Always giving him updates, as if to make him aware of his accomplishments, and asking to stay with him until it was lights outs in the barracks. The Power never had any concerns with it and enjoyed spending free moments with the young boy, he was bright and had a kind soul, despite what the little warrior thought. He was rather fond of the both of them.

"Allow him that attachment, if he has found someone, he trusts to guide him to where he must learn to go, then allow it. Show him a kindness he is not used to, but in small doses, too much at one time may be overwhelming and he shy away from it. Be there if he ever needs to talk about things, anything, even the mundane things. Show him that there is not just bad in the world and that there are those who will be there out of heart and not necessity."

The Power nodded, much like the Morningstar had, and excused himself to gather his young ward in order to return to the Pavilion until night fell. Rahael watched them both gather their respective youth and make their leave, leaving him alone with the Healer and Commander.

"Honestly, it is a surprise that they are still as open as they are, with the experiences they have had to witness and live through they should be broken beyond repair. Those two in there are the strongest young ones I know, and I know quite a few, they are going to be great someday. Great leaders. I am privileged to see them as they grow into who they are meant to be. There is much animosity between them, that does not come as a surprise given their scarring past together, but I would not be surprised if they began close friends as they grow older."

He nodded at them after that and turned wing to head back to his own duties he'd been pulled away from, the Healer and Commander turned to exchange looks silently, letting the silence wash over them for the moment.

"What do we do now brother?"

Michael was not a healer and thus turned to the words of his younger brother.

"We begin to mend."


	64. Mob

"Our boots have mysteriously gone missing again.", the had corned the little fledgling in the garden, where she had been plucking blades of grass up from the soft ground, tossing them above her head in happy silence, "And the only one who could have known ho to reach them is you."

The fledgling giggled up at him, where he knelt before her, in front of the others. Her eyes shined with the brightness of a thousand suns, as the usually did, looking between them all for any possible escape routes to be found.

Nisroc smiled at the fledglings soft giggling, watching with trained eyes as she surveyed their enclosure for any weak points, searching for any place for her to escape the oncoming fate for her 'misdeed'.

"I didn' do nothin'!"

"Oh really?", Abraxos spoke up from over his left shoulder, arms crossed loosely over his chest, looking down at her with playfully narrowed eyes "Because we found them under the bench in the training field and who is the only one small enough to crawl under it?", though they were still noticeably barefooted at the moment.

She was quick to take the bait though, and jumped forward a small pace, "Nu uh! They're in the armory!", and quickly clapped a little hand over her mouth, eyes going wide that she had been tricked into outing herself. They chuckled at her expression, but she ignored them, looking back to the smiling Power knelt before her.

"Got you."

He snagged her up quickly, standing back up straight, and tossed her over his head to the others. Haniel caught her in a cradle, the mood brightening even still at her constant stream of anticipating giggles, she knew all to well what happened to might little fledglings who dared try and play tricks on them.

"What shall we do first men?"

Puriel offered, "Start with the toes first!"

Titus followed with, "Those little ears, sir!"

Raguel was busy leaning over Haniel's shoulder, making the little fledgling look between the two of them with bright shining eyes, not bothering add his own opinions in on the matter as they all got their turn in.

She was the Baby Power after all.

Abraxos raised his hand slightly, "Sir, the belly, we must be teaching a lesion of course."

"Agreed, Haniel, we shall allow the archer the first round for the 'misdeed'."


	65. Joint

"Raphi, my leg hurts."

Was not the first thing he had come to expect when the office door opened slightly and a familiar head of braids appeared as they walked in, their little fledgling coming to stand next to him where he sat in his chair, and he looked down at her with a single raised eyebrow.

"Oh?", he set the documents he had been working on aside and turned in his chair, "And where does it hurt?", lifting her up under the arms, he sat her in the middle of his desk, right before him. She lifted her little foot and winced, "My foot hurts."

"Do you want me to take a look?"

She nodded and he returned the gesture in kind, taking hold of her foot with a gentle hand, he twisted it slightly and she took a breath. His watched her closely for reactions as he slowly felt his way up from her toes, to her sole, and up to her ankle. It was there that she reacted, tugging at her foot in his grasp, and whimpering so softly that it was almost missed and would have been in the semi loud bustling of the Infirmary on this day.

"It seems you've sprained your ankle, little one." He reached to the side behind him, turning slightly being mindful of the little ankle he still had in his grip, reaching for a splint and bandage wrap to secure it in. Her little fists curled as he straightened the appendage and splint it, wrapping the bandage around it securely, immobilizing it from use for the time being.

Akeelah watched him work closely, trying to keep her foot as still as possible, despite how much it hurt when he straightened it out to splint it. The aching throb made her whimper again, and he brushed a few fingers over her calf as he finished up the binding. Patting the foot in his lap gently.

"There we go, no, tell me little one, how did you manage to come upon this?"

"I was getting' a peach and jumped from the tree."

"I see.", he turned her around as he pulled her down into his lap, pulling the document back in front of him, her little arms crossing over the edge of the desk as she leaned forward to watch, he leaned over her shoulder slightly to return to his work, "And did you enjoy your pilfered peach, little mouse?"

Akeelah licked her lips cheekily and nodded, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek, the slight stickiness from the fruit still lingering.

"It was worth it."

"Then it seems to have been a good day."

"It was a great day!"


	66. Birthday

A month to the gracious day and they all sat back in their garden like they had on that very first morning, watching in similar fashion as their beloved little fledgling danced around in the shallows of the lake and jumped over the small waves as they rolled to shore.

They smiled fondly as she twirled, twirling water around with her, soaking the bottom hem of her little robe.

She jumped out of the water, running up to meet them again, and climbed into her masters lap just as she had a month ago on that special morning.

The Morningstar wrapped his arms around her tightly, "Happy Anniversary little one."

She looked up in confusion, "What?"

"It's been a month since you'd first brightened our garden."

"A month since you showed us forgiveness, we never thought we'd get."

"A month since you started stealing my mugs from me."

"A month since you became my little nugget."

She seemed to ponder this for a moment, "Does that mean we can celebrate by getting more peaches?"

The Healer huffed and looked skyward in fond exasperation while the Messenger and her master laughed outright, the Commander smiled at her in amusement.

"Of course."


	67. Pain

Akeelah sat next to her friend on the steps of the Infirmary, hugging his left arm to her chest, trying to offer over as much comfort as she could. The screams of his friend having faded long ago, but the ringing of them still echoed in their ears, he was bent over on himself. His face was buried in his knees and tears dripped onto the step under him.

The Healer had taken his old friend from over his shoulder and practically whisked him away from that point on. It had gone so far as to him forbidding him entrance when he'd started getting in the way and his temper the better of him.

"Zaveriel."

The gentle rumble of the Healer's voice called out to him from behind and the young messenger was quick to turn.

"He's asking for you."


	68. Skeleton

"I can't wait!"

"Gabriel.", the Healer laughed at the younger Archangel, "Please try to remember that you are in fact grown."

"Oh, shut up, we're going trick or treating, I'm allowed to be excited."

The Morningstar stepped up next to his brother's side, "You're only excited so you can steal sweets from our fledgling."

"I like to think of it as borrowing without the intent of returning."

Michael was helping her finish her costume, her excitement for the human holiday ritual brightening her even more so then was her usual brightness, and she had run off tugging him with her to get something 'cool' to wear.

The door behind them opened and their older brother stepped out first, eyes dancing with amusement, and a laugh on his lips. They waited in preparation to see what their fledgling had decided on that needed their help of the oldest of them. It had been amusing when she had bared her master from following and he'd grumped about it for approximately five minutes before letting it go.

"We are ready."

Gabriel bounced on the balls of his feet, "Well let's see then!"

A little bundle stepped out from behind the eldest Archangel, Raphael and Gabriel broke into uproarious laughter at the cheeky grin she wore. Wrapped up in all red; a red long sleeve shirt, red pants, and red sneakers, she was complimented with the finishing touch of little red horns on a human headband curling around behind her ears.

Lucifer looked amused, but acted betrayed, and the laughter bubbling in his chest gave him away.

Of course, she would pick to be a little devil.


	69. Wartime

The scream piercing through the night woke them all from their deep slumbers and pulled them quickly out of bed to get to the side of the one such a scream of terror was torn from.

The Commander grabbed first for his sword, ready to defend them from anyone who would dare come into their home and attack their fledgling, jumping from his bed and turning out of his door to run down the hall.

The Messenger grabbed his bow from the hook next to his door, having rolled out of his bed in quick succession, spinning around the corner of his door and beelining down the hall as he notched an arrow to be at the ready.

The Healer had gotten to his feet with a practiced quickness from nights tending to warriors after battle, reaching for his staff as he rushed out the door and turned for the room just a bit away from his.

The Morningstar was startled away when the scream rang through his room, echoing off the walls, and coming back to echo in his ears. It was a scream so terrified, so horrid, that it broke the hearts of anyone who heard it. His side was exposed to the cold air and that side of his bed was empty and he turned quickly, casting a warm glow of light over his room with a wave of his hand, and then spotted it.

She was curled up in the far corner, her shoulders heaving as she sobbed so harshly into her hands, eyes wide with terror at the unseen images dancing before her. What had caused such a stir was unknown, but the others ran into his room in quick succession of each other, eyes wide and weapons drawn.

They stood down at the lack of attack and turned first to the Morningstar in question, he merely pointed at the fledgling in the corner, and all attention was given to her at once.

Akeelah was curled tightly into herself, a bluish-white glow emanating from her lap where her hands lay clenched, her eyes seemingly glowing even brighter then they usually did. The air sang with energy around them, little sparks lighting on their own from the intensity it carried, and they watched in slight fascination as reality seemed to warp on itself. Not much, but enough that the air itself flickered around them; it was enough to know the precarious position they were in.

The Healer sucked in a distressed breath and they turned to look at him, leaning against his staff, and watching the terrified fledgling in morbid curiosity, "She is pulling at her grace, I've never seen this from someone so young, she pulling it to the surface as a defense mechanism."

"And that's a bad thing, I'm guessing."

He nodded to the Messenger, "There was a reason that all young fledglings were watched as closely as they were, using too much power before her body is ready to could tear her core apart, it would implode on itself.", he looked around them in mild fascination, "This is amazing though, she is bending reality, do you see this?", he gestured to her hands where the glow was coming from, "That's pure grace right there. That hasn't been seen since…."

"The creation of the Stars.", the eldest finished for him.

He nodded and turned to look at the oldest archangel, "From what I can see it isn't nearly as strong as us, but I have no doubts that as she gets older, she will be a _strong _angel.", then he looked toward the Morningstar, "Lucifer, she recognizes you as her master, you may be the only one she allows near her right now. You need to calm her down."

The older Archangel nodded once at the silent command in those words, and stood from the side of his bed, creeping forward carefully as to not startle her more. Her eyes turned to look up at him, and they were hauntingly brilliant against the dimness of his room, he knelt a pace away from her and called to her softly "Akeelah,", she stared at him, tears like stars falling from her, and he spoke softly as the heat from the tension in the air began to warm his cool skin, "Akeelah, little one, it's alright."

At first, it didn't seem like anything was getting through to her, he even turned to look over his shoulder to his brothers hopelessly and they waved him on encouragingly.

"Akeelah, my little fledgling, please come back. Please? It's alright, you're okay, it's safe now."

The tension slowly dissolved itself, the heat cooling out bit by bit again, but the glowing didn't begin to fade in the slightest.

"It was just a night terror. It's over, the war is over, you've got a flock again."

His words seemingly started getting to her, the little fingers in her lap slowly began to unclench, her shoulders slowly uncurling.

"You're not alone, you'll never be alone again, you've got us now. We would never let you go. Never will."

Her fingers slowly began to fade back to their normal color, her eyes back to their normal soft glow, tears slowing down again.

"Come here, come to us little one, let us help you."

Their fledgling slowly uncurled from the corner, slowly and cautiously, she pushed away from her corner and crawled towards her master. Her face was still shining from the tears, but the glow had faded complete, her grace receding back to the depths it sat in wait in. The Choir Master sat on the floor of his room, legs crossed in front of him, and opened his arms for her.

"Come here, little Akeelah, come to me now. Come to us. We will protect you."

She crawled, rubbing at her face with her little hand, and crawled forward to climb into his lap. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, feeling her fingers curl into the soft fabric of his night shirt, and she buried her face into his chest.

The others slowly came up from behind them, sitting around them on the floor with them, and reached out to offer their own soft comfort to the distraught fledgling. Her little arms shook from the intensity of which she was clutching at her master's shirt and the Healer and Messenger reached up to gently rub her little arms in an attempt to relieve the tension and calm her nerves. The oldest Prince rubbing small circles in her back, each offering their own silent comfort in mere presence alone.

Slowly the tension dissipated from her arms and she sagged against the Morningstar's chest, turning her head slightly to suck in a shaky breath, rubbing at her eyes with a little fist.

"See?", his voice rumbled deeply under her ear and she listened closely to it, "You're alright. We're here. We're all here.", he pet his hand down the back of her head, "I've got you. We've all got you, little one." Akeelah sniffed softly, rubbing her eyes again, a thumb brushed over her cheek and she turned to look up at her master only slightly, he smiled down at her and rubbed a finger over her nose. "It was just a bad dream. Just a dream. You're safe in our home. Safe in our arms. See?" She stayed half buried in her master's chest but turned slightly to see the others sitting around them, they smiled at her gently and she turned back to hide in his chest again, "You're safe, little mouse, you're safe with us."


	70. Trust

Though the young fledgling spent most of her time around the others, she still made it a point to visit with the ones who had protected for as long as they had and as much as they could. Jeremiah always welcomed her back with a hug, usually on the steps of the Pantheon, it was still a slow progress at them leaving the safety it provided most of them had taken to at least stepping out on the great veranda that circled around the outside of their Pantheon.

She tended to avoid Sariel, who continued trying to order into doing what she presumed to be the best for her wellbeing and keep her from leaving when she made to move on to see other friends she had made. The Choir Head had stepped in at one point to put an end to it, to keep tension from building between them, Akeelah was stubborn in her ways and Sariel was a worrier.

It didn't mix well for the free-spirited fledgling to be coped up in one place for too long.

Sariel had finally tried to step over the Head's word when she found the fledgling telling another, the second youngest in the group, of her adventures outside the protective walls.

"What's he like?"

"He's so big!", She raised her hands up high as if to try and imitate how tall the person of interest was, "And he's really tough too. He fights really good and protects everyone. He has this really big sword and carries it during his tasks, it's really sharp looking and big, big enough to take down a Leviathan in one swipe!" the other fledgling, just a few millennia older the she was, opened his mouth in awe, eyes wide in fascination and childlike curiosity. "And he lets me help during training and lets me ride on his shoulders! He looks really tough but he's really good. We're best friends!"

"Wow, I can't imagine the Chief Power being anything but fearsome, does he ever yell at you?"

"Only when I get too close to someone sparing but then he says sorry and lets me walk with him as he walks around to watch. I promise he's really nice!"

"I wish I could meet him…."

Akeelah jumped up excitedly, catching the older fledglings' attention, "You can! I can show you!"

Sariel took that as he cue to intervene, in her opinion it was bad enough that they let their youngest be with those coldhearted monsters and if she were Head, she would surely forbid such things, she stepped in between them and snatched the other fledgling away from her.

"Absolutely not! It's bad enough that you're there, we shouldn't even allow that, why if I were Jeremiah I would forbid you from everything leaving our side again!", she tugged the other behind her, "You may be able to leave our protective walls but you will no drag him into that rabble."

The older fledgling looked nervous, but sure, and tugged on his arm that was caught in her grip.

"But I wanna go! I wanna see too! I wanna go with Akeelah!"

"No! Absolutely not! And you shan't leave either! You will stay here where we can protect you!"

Akeelah crossed her arms and glared, "You're not my boss!"

"I am your elder and you will do as I say."

"No!"

"What is the problem here?", it was only in their fortune that Jeremiah decided on that moment to venture out into the sunlight, eyes studying the three of them carefully, and he set a hand on the young fledgling's shoulder to calm her nerves. Despite him transferring his guardianship on to another, his touch still calmed the fledgling, and she settled back against his hip. "Sariel?"

"She is telling him all these fables! Convincing him to leave our protection!"

"I am sure he will return at days end?", he looked to the older fledgling who nodded in agreement, "And for Akeelah, it was my decision as her guardian to decide, I know your intentions are for the better, but you have to calm down, sister. The war is over. It is time to rebuild and reunite."

"You can never be sure!"

"That is true, but the decision is not yours to make whether he goes or stays, it is up to Mabel. And I have spoken to her on the matter and she acquiesces so long as he returns at day's end."

He knelt to address the fledgling in question, "Jezaniah, the decision is yours alone now, do you wish to go explore with young Akeelah or to stay with us?"

The fledgling boy looked unsure for a moment, before the determination filled his eyes, and he nodded in conclusion to the internal debate. Part of him was frightened at the aspect of leaving mostly all he's known, but the other part was encouraging, he wanted to see what there was to see.

"I wanna go."

"Jeremiah!"

The Choir Head smiled at the fledgling fondly and nodded, guiding him forward with a gentle hand on the back of his head, watching as he took his friends hand and they both scurried quickly down the steps. Sariel huffed and crossed her arms, unhappy with his allowance, and he had to resist the urge to roll his eyes as he guided her back inside.

…

"Where are we going first?"

Jezaniah had never seen so many angels in one place before and watched in wide eyed fascination at the crowd that walked the Axis around them, his fingers clutching tightly to his friends' hand, as they made their way along the street. Akeelah turned to look at him, smiling excitedly, and pointed to the vast garden they were coming up on.

"We're gonna get some peaches!"

"Peaches?"

She smiled wider and tugged him forward, "You'll love them!"

The gentle Gardener greeted them as they entered the magnificent garden he maintained and cared for, greeting the frequently visiting little one before softly introducing himself to the new face that had joined her today. He walked them to a patch of ripened trees and sought out for them the juiciest peaches he could find, rubbing them on his robe gently and handing them down, watching the new fledgling take a tentative bite, and smiling when his eyes widened in wonder at the sweet taste.

"And who might you be, my new young friend?"

He was shy, curling back on himself, but much like the friend's hand he held he refused to back down from him, "I'm Jezaniah."

"It is a pleasure to meet you, young Jezaniah.", the Garden turned to return to his task at hand, "I do hope to see you again."

They waved by to the friendly, soft spoken Gardener and turned out of the Garden back onto the Axis, Jezaniah looked around at all the sights there was to see, peering into carts and shops, feeling the softness of the fabrics and running his fingers over the various trinkets as they walked passed them.

"Where are we going now?"

She pointed at the looming round temple above in front of them, "The Infirmary!"

"The Infirmary?"

"Come on! You'll want to meet him too!"

They ran up the stairs together, hand in hand, and scurried quickly through the gaping entrance. There was healers of all kinds bustling about, angels being tended to, so many in one place and he tried to take them all in. They wove around them as they moved, receiving many oft greetings as the passed, and made their way to the tall figure bent over another, donned in deep emerald robes, and nearly as dark as the night, curls pushed back just behind his ears and the glint of a gold ring curled around the outer shell of his ear. Akeelah let go of his hand, for only a moment, to rush forward and hug the tall angel around the wait.

"Hi big brother!"

The older angel chuckled and stood back up, pressing a hand over her head, tilting it back to look her in the eyes, "Hello my little one." Akeelah squeezed his waist one last time and back up to take her friends hand again. The taller angel turned with her; the older fledgling's eyes widened at just how big he was and followed to meet her friend she had brought with her.

He knelt and held out a big hand to him, "Hello little one, I am Raphael, what is your name fledgling?" he reached out to take the big hand tentatively, long fingers curled over it and he bent to press a light kiss to the back of his hand before sitting back up again, "M-My name is Jeza-Jezaniah."

"It is nice to meet you Jeza-Jezaniah.", there were smile wrinkles around his eyes, and they themselves glistened with amusement, as he smiled once more at the nervous fledgling, "How do you fair?"

"I-I'm okay I guess."

"You guess? Are you not well?"

He turned to look to his friend for help and she giggled at him, "He's a Healer, silly! He always worries! Asks me all the time!"

"With good reason, of course, little one."

The Archangel, _Archangel_, turned back to smile at him and nodded in understanding, he could see rather easily that the young boy hadn't explored the outside of the Pantheon in quite some time, and thus tried to make him feel as welcomed as he could.

"If you ever find yourself in need of help, I will come to see to you myself, all you need do is call."

"O-Okay."

His friend bid him a cheerful goodbye, to which he waved back to her in kind, turning back to what he had been doing before he had been surprised with the hug he'd been given. Akeelah tugged him along, going just slow enough for him to take everything in, from the passing angels, to the colors, everything. He wanted to take in everything.

Next they made it to a building that was more open ledges then anything else, hopping up the steps one at a time, giggling softly with one another as they did. Their hands swung lightly as they dodged fast moving angels coming this way and that, there was one face he recognized, the brown wavy-haired boy that was reading a parchment just before them. He often came to see them while they shunned themselves away, bringing reports and news to the elders, and sometimes he'd sneak in treats with him for the younger ones.

"Hi Zaves!"

He looked up at the sound of his name and grinned widely at the sight of them both, rolling the parchment back up and stuffing it back into his satchel, "Hey little guys! It's good to see you again Jezaniah!"

"You too."

The older messenger showed them around, he was awed by the beauty of it, it was big but almost completely open. The breeze danced around them to its own happy tune, there was a lot of angels about, but it never seemed too crowded.

He guided them through to the center, walking them through the atrium, slowing down to let the other fledgling see everything he could, and slowly they made there way through the resting areas, "He's this way, the boss man, he's great! You'll love him!"

Zaveriel knocked on the closed door of the office and waited silently for the permission to enter, turning the handle as he smiled and waved them forward over his shoulder, opening the door for them to enter.

Another tall angel sat behind a great desk, the office space was cluttered with scrolls and parchments and the like, but the desk was well organized. Golden colored sparkling eyes looked up to greet them, and the bigger angel smiled brightly, setting the writing pencil down as they drew near. Akeelah leaned forward to bump her little fist to his in greeting, and he leaned forward on his desk to see them better, smile never wavering as he did.

"Good to see you this fine afternoon, little nugget, who's your young friend here?"

"His name is Jezaniah! I'm showing him everything there is to see."

"That's mighty nice of you nugget", he smiled at the new fledgling in turn, reaching somewhere in his desk for something, and passed over a treat much like the ones Zaves used to bring for them all. It was clear to see where he had gotten them from. "It's mighty nice to meet you Jezaniah. I'm Gabriel, but you can call me Gabe if you'd want."

"H-Hi Gabri-Gabe."

The Messenger smiled at him again, "Hello, you're welcome to visit anytime you want. Don't be so afraid, bigger nugget, I promise most of our barks are worse then the bite. Don't tell 'em I said anything but we're all a big bunch of softies.", he gestured towards his friend, Akeelah giggled as she munch on her little treat, but nodded in agreement, "They are Jeza! Big softies!"

"I'm so gonna tell Mike you said that about him."

"Do it, he doesn't scare me!"

He tilted his head to the side in disbelief, "You sure there nugget? You sure run from him when he comes after that little pudgy belly of yours."

"You got a pudgy belly!"

Jezaniah turned to look at her in awe at her daring to say such things to an _Archangel, _he would never have dared, but from his side Zaves just laughed at the look that crossed his master's face, and he prepared himself for the worst. But the Archangel only laughed at his friend, pointing a finger at her in warning from over top his desk "Just you wait until days end. I'll show you a pudgy belly alright. Oh, I'll show you _really_ well."

She giggled again, tugging her friends hand back with her as she took a step backwards, "I not scared of you neither! You're old, can't never catch me!", she bolted for the door, pulling her friend along with her, when the archangel made as though he was going to jump forward.

Zaveriels laughter echoed behind them, and, "Just you wait little nugget! You're gonna get it later!"

They ran down the steps quickly, and he tugged her to slow down as they stepped back up onto the Axis to move on to their next adventure, and she slowed to match his pace.

"I can't believe you did that back there."

"What?", she turned to look up at him, her eyes wide and shining with curiousness, wondering what he meant by that, he stared at her in awe for a moment, "What you said to the _Archangel_, you're so fearless Akee, I would never have been able to do that.", the younger fledgling merely shrugged a shoulder and tugged him towards a set of stone steps leading into the side of a rocky wall, "It's just fun. He wouldn't ever hurt us. Its not like that anymore." They stepped up the stone steps slowly, and he twisted his head all around to see it all, it was a massive field, where angel of all sorts were training; archers and combat fighters and swordsmen and it all. Swords were clashing and punches were being thrown and arrows were zipping through the air. Angels were dodging and flipping and turning and dancing to the beat of their war drums. Above them, carved out of the fine stone, was a Pavilion where he had heard from his friend was where the legendary Powers stayed.

Walking among the training warriors was a small group, surveying and watching and guiding, stepping in to correct and review, watching them all with close attention.

He recognized the one who she had told him about, tall and sword and all, he had his back to them, conversing with another who he couldn't see from this standpoint. Akeelah pulled him forward and they scurried through the training warriors to greet them, she hugged his waist tightly, like she had with Raphael, and he was forced to take a step forward suddenly at the impact her little body made behind him.

He set a hand on her head and smiled in return, "Hello Baby Power.", she beamed up at him brightly and gave his waist another squeeze, "Hi Nisroc!", she stepped back, the Chief Power turning to follow her, revealing the older angel behind him; raven haired with bright blue eyes, he was tall just like the Power was but perhaps a few inches more so. "Nis, this is my friend Jezaniah, I call him Jeza, I told him all about you!"

The Chief Power knelt before them, a gentle smile gracing his supposed grim features, as he watched them with surprisingly bright eyes, "Oh? I hope it was all good."

"Most of it was. Gotta keep you humble."

He chuckled softly and poked her belly, she giggled and curled in on herself, turning away from him slightly, "I appreciate your intention, Baby Power.", Jezaniah watched him with wide eyes, clearly unsure as to what to say or how to say it, he had heard stories, mostly from Sariel of course, about how harsh and unforgiving the Powers were to others, but the Chief didn't seem like that.

The Power had smile lines around his eyes too, the smile he had looked as though it was something he wore often, and his eyes hadn't darkened in the slightest when they turned to him too.

No, he didn't strike him down like he was said to do, no, he poked him in the belly too. It enticed a soft giggle from him as well, and the Power smiled wider at him, resting his elbows on his knees.

"Do all fledglings giggle when one pokes them in the belly?"

Akeelah stuck her tongue out and he chuckled again, miming as though he was going to do it again, and his friend jumped around to protect herself. The Power laughed softly and stood, pressing a hand to both of their heads, and guided them around towards the other tall angel.

"Sir, we have some small guests with us today."

Like the Power had, the dark haired angel with the blue eyes knelt too, elbows resting on his knees in similar fashion, "It is an honor to meet you young Jezaniah, I am Michael.", his eyes went wide at his name and he took a minute step back, a stab of pain went through him when he saw the slight tinge of hurt flash over the Archangel's eyes but understanding followed soon after. He too reached out and poked them both in the belly and smiled when they both giggled in tune with each other.

"Nisroc, I do believe that inquiry to be true, at least for the fledglings we have the honor of having with us today."

"Quite an interesting discovery, Sir. Shall we look into it more later?"

"Indeed." He smiled kindly at the new fledgling, "I do hope to see you again, little one. Would you two care to walk with us?"

Akeelah nodded, and he too followed in turn, and they both got nods in return. His friend let go of his hand and tugged on the Power's trousers leg, the taller angel looked down to her in question and knelt when she motioned the desire to whisper in his ear. He grew worried when he saw both of their eyes turn to him, and the Power nodded to her whispering, and stood back up.

Large hands were held open for him to see, as though he was intending not to accidently startle him, "Would you want up?"

Akeelah had already left him, darting to the Archangel's side, and he nodded to her request of him. He lifted her into his arms, and up above his head, for her to climb up onto his shoulders. Nodding his head, the other Choir fledgling looked up to the Power, Nisroc was gentle as he hooked his fingers under the young Choir angels arms and lifted him up like the Archangel had to his friend, allowing him to climb up to perch on his shoulders.

Large fingers curled around his ankles to hold him in place, and they turned, "Let us see if we can't find you something interesting to see."


	71. Factory

The Commander examined the crown of spikes closely, turning it in his hands over and over again, brushing his fingertips over the ends of the spikes and his eyes darkened at the meaning behind the device. Yet another creation made at the hand of a cruel sister.

_Mindbreaker_, indeed.

"Where was this contraption even found?"

He passed it over to the Healer at his side, and he took it in gentle nimble hands, turning it over to examine in his way. He pressed a finger to the tip of a single spike and hummed softly as he pulled it away to reveal the small drop of red blood that had been left behind from its point, nodding he passed it back to the Power before them.

Michael turned to his brother in question, "Have you seen this before, brother?"

"Not personally, though the scars that had been left have been laid witness to, I believe this device was used recently.", he pressed a rag he'd pulled from his robes to his bleeding finger to staunch it, "Though why they possessed such a device is beyond my reasoning, and to attempt to use it one a fledgling?", he shook his head, leaving it on that note, but the disapproval and disgust was written clear on his expression as he turned to reattend to the fledgling curled tightly into her master.

The Chief shrugged, taking it back in hand when it was passed over in return, the Archangel wiping his hand on his sleeve as if the mere touch of it disgusted him, and from his expression is was more likely then not. The fledgling they had recovered had buried herself into her Choir Master's arms and had yet to return to them again, the Morningstar looked alarmed, arms curled tightly around his small fledgling, eyes wide as he stared at the contraption that had nearly been used on his tiny fledgling.

Nisroc tucked the torture device into the cloth they had wrapped it up in, if only to hide it from the fledgling it had nearly been set up and passed it behind him to Haniel.

"Does anyone know where they are being stored?", Michael was set, eyes hardened and jaw tight, he was not happy with this recent revelation and the possible numbers it had effected.

Again, none could answer, but a flash of sadness darkened the Power's eyes. The youngling he had taken underwing, once under the charge of the cruel sister, might know where they were kept. He loath to return him to the place that had caused him so much pain, and perhaps it would be asking too much, but he knew the boy would agree to do so if not hesitantly if only to please them. He was most certainly trying to get back in their better affections after his actions, and though they were more then explained from his time as a fledgling and who had been tasked with rearing him, he was not the only one to have suffered in silence at the hands of another and not risen above it, thus he would do so too.

Just as the Baby Power had proved.

Tragedy does not define you; it can shape you, but never define you.

A slow process, it was, but he was starting to get the youngling who was barely out of fledglinghood to open himself up to others. They spent much time together, training and other moments, he was growing rather fond of the boy. Though all the younger flocks of warriors were technically under his charge, no longer under the nurture of a guardian, he had found himself falling into a pseudo role for the boy.

He would make a great Power someday if they could get him to open his heart for others, being one of them was more then just skill at combat, it was about compassion and love.

They could defeat armies near effortlessly, while on the other hand, have to be able to tend to the fledglings that migrated in their direction during moments of peace. Such as the Baby Power had.

"Not myself, but the boy, Paul? He was her charge. Perhaps he would know."

The Archangel nodded, "I want them all destroyed. Send them to the Blacksmiths and have them melted down. I never want to see one of those again. Am I understood?"

Both Powers saluted him in time to his order, Michael relented a moment, grasping at his Chief's arm, "I know you are fond of the boy, I trust your judgement my friend, if you do not wish for him to show us I will not force the order onto him."

Nisroc wanted to deny him making the order but having them all destroyed was for the better of the Host, despite his ways of going about it, Castiel did have a point. The betterment of the Host was above all else.

"I will ask him on this matter and see what he says, sir."

"I thank you, my friend."

Just as the two Power's were about to make their leave, they were all stopped midmotion at the small voice that spoke up behind them. Iridescent eyes peeked out from the Morningstar's protective hold to look at them all.

"I know where they are."

They all stared at her, even after she had turned to hide away back in her master's shoulder, not sure how they were meant to respond to that. Her knowing would mean that this was not the first occurrence of her seeing one of these cruel crowns and that thought frightened them, a fledgling should not know where to find devices used for torture.

Nisroc and Haniel saluted again, agreeing to meet them at dusk to retrieve the others at their sides, none of them had ever ventured to the cruel sisters lab though the stories that had been passed around and made it to their ears shed some light of the experiences one gained from being taken to the place.

Michael sighed, rubbing a hand down his face, as the door to his office clicked shut and he turned back to the Healer. Glancing a quick sad smile to the frightened fledgling in their care, he focused solely on the other Archangel, who looked back in similar fashion.

"Was that the cause of what you saw?"

He nodded to the soft-spoken inquiry, "Indeed, it is, the markings match those of the make of that cruel device."

"He has taken to you whilst in your care, has he mentioned a name of those responsible, how many?"

It was Raphael's turn to sigh deeply, and rub a hand over his face, "It is hard to say brother, he has been through many tortures, despite what I am to believe he was sentenced. It is a trying task to get him to share much of anything. But judging by the fading and beginning signs of scarring, I would say it happened within the last two earthen years. And most certainly not while locked in the Prisons."

"Then it was on Earth where he suffered that torture?"

The Healer nodded slowly, "Seeing as to who we took it from, and the measures we know they are willing to go, I do have an inkling of who is responsible. Or, at the very least, who had given the task out to be done.", he rubbed at his chin lightly, "Brother I know you said to allow bygones to be bygones, we cannot grow if we don't allow ourselves to, but that seraph and his humans have been known to cross unspoken lines. I do not like them."

"I know Raphael, I know perfectly well, and your resisting such urges to deal them a hand of your own is something I am proud for.

He turned to the Messenger, who up until now, had been standing silently at the Morningstar's side looking to his 'little nugget' sadly.

"Gabriel, I am to believe that the angels stationed on Earth are under your charge?"

"That would be correct."

"I know you are fond of the seraph—"

"This is too far. He will be dealt with accordingly. Him and any of those who would sit back and allow this to have happened."

…

The eight of them stood before the looming building in no time, little Akeelah standing behind her Master, little fingers clutching tightly to his robes, peeking out at the building she had sworn to never enter again in any circumstance.

She wasn't to know of course, not being able to read minds, but on the other side, standing next to the Chief Power her adversary was thinking much on the same lines.

"You do not have to do this if you don't feel as though you can."

Nisroc had his fingers curled over the younger angels shoulder as their Commander addressed him softly, the young warrior in training nodded slowly, staring over his shoulder at the dimly lit hall that led into the place that had been known to cause so much pain.

"No, it's okay.", the Power's fingers tightened minutely on his shoulder, "I can do it."

He stepped around the Archangel and out from the steady grip of the Power to stand in front of the entrance of the place he too had sworn never to enter again once he'd been sorted into his legion. Though history has a way of repeating itself, and this was their time to see and learn from those mistakes made, to keep history from repeating once more.

The young angel looked down when he felt fingers curl around his hand, the iridescent eyes of the famed 'Baby Power' stared back up him, she didn't smile up at him, but her grip did tighten.

Akeelah had stepped out from behind her master when she watched the trainee, she cared little for step away from her big brother and Nisroc and stand before the gaping doorway that lead into the lab, she knew more about him then they thought she did. They had a past together, their meeting hadn't been just made, and it was something they would only share with each other. She stepped around the others, the Power and Commander falling silent, as the fledgling stepped up to the boy, they all knew she was adamant about not liking and took his hand.

They stared at each other for a long moment, "This doesn't mean we're friends." And he nodded "Agreed."

The two of them looked over their shoulders to see the others staring at them, and nodding in unison, stepping forward into the entrance. The others were quick to follow, the setting sun casting shadows over the broken walls and through shattered windows, and the two Power's carried lit torches to brighten the rooms as they entered.

Paul looked forlornly through doorways, into back rooms, still clutching tightly to the hand curled around his. Beside him Akeelah did much of the same thing, skirting around the upturned metal table in the main room sitting in the middle of the lab.

The Powers bent to see the tools closer, the Messenger and Healer following, and noted the remnants of dried blood on them.

They passed rooms with barred doors on them, some hanging precariously on one hinge, others still closed securely, and then there was the ones that the doors had been pulled from them completely. The Morningstar frowned softly when the little fledgling let go of the boy's hand to venture into one of the cell-like rooms to pick up something that was unseen in the darkness of the shadows, Haniel moved his torch closer, and they each saw the stained little cloth doll she clutched in one hand as she went back to holding the young warrior trainee's hand too.

"Akeelah, what is that?"

Lucifer had asked the question that as on all of their minds, but none wanted to know the actual answer to.

"It's my doll."

The implication that the small statement held was enough to catch a breath in all of their throats. Still though, they followed the two of them down a side hall, Nisroc and Haniel waving the torches around to illuminate rooms as they passed them. A reddish-brown patch of dried blood was painted in the corner of one room and the dried imprint of a hand on the window of another.

The horrors that had most certainly been faced in these rooms darkened the place even more. The only consolation was knowing the one responsible would never again step foot out in the open freely.

Akeelah and Paul stopped outside of a room, the door cracked open, and exchanged looks again, before the youngling reached his free hand out and pushed it open.

The room itself wasn't too big, it was barn except for the rusting metal table standing in the middle of the room and the upturned cart on the other side, above them a skylight allowed the shine of the stars to glow down on them. Those who found themselves strapped to the table could see the freedom above the with no hopes of ever reaching it. They guided them to a closet on the opposing wall and Akeelah reached out to open it, the crowns were hung on hooks in the wall, among various other devices they had never seen. Michael stepped up behind them, placing a reassuring hand on both of their shoulders, and eyed them all closely.

"This is something that pains me greatly.", he eyed the walls aligned with torture devices, "_Mindbreaker _indeed. I want these all melted down first thing. Never to be seen again."

He turned himself and young angels around, the others following, and left the room to itself. The devices would be handed over to the Blacksmiths to be smelted down to forge weapons to defend instead of weapons to harm.

As soon as they stepped out of the looming building, into the glowing light of the stars above and the warm glow from the torches in the two Powers' hands, the two young angels let go of each other's hands, Akeelah made a show of staring at it in horror as she moved back to her master's side and Paul wiped his hand on his top as if to wipe away the remembrance of her touch.

They all rolled their eyes at their antics.


	72. Friendship

Zaveriel and Akeelah stood face to face, a grin slowly spreading across both of their features, word had spread that their least favorite trio were coming to Heaven for a visit, their Father being oddly fond of them as He was.

They did their fancy little handshake and smiled to one another.

"Are you in?"

"Do birds poop on human cars?"

He snorted and held his hand out for her to shake, "I'm honored to call you friend, partner in crime."

"They will never forget us."

Their Father was giving them the official tour, using the time to see how the rebuilding was progressing as well, and He wanted to see how His many children were faring now that they were starting to get together again. There may have been a rough spot, He hadn't meant to disappear as long as He had, but they were beginning to act like a family once more. His children were truly amazing and resilient.

They started first in the Throne room, Akeelah perched happily on His knee, young Zaveriel sitting back on the front of His throne. Their Masters had seen them whispering in the garden together and couldn't be there to ensure that mischief wouldn't be had and thus came to Father with their request to watch over the pair of them for the day until they were able to once more.

"Do you two promise to be on your best behavior?"

The pair of them gave Him various noises of agreement, the fledgling on His knee turning to kiss Him on the cheek softly, "Of course Daddy! I promise not to kick them."

Zaveriel saved the kiss to the cheek from Him but smiled up at Him as he leaned backwards "And I promise to keep my hands to myself."

He knew of course that they had still planned something, but left it be so long as they kept their words in not causing harm to them, that was all He asked of them both.

Castiel entered sometime later, looking a bit too ruffled, and the Guards appeared a bit to still and He swore to speak to them later on the matter. Not many were fond of this particular brother of theirs. Behind him came his two hunter companions and charges, looking around the throne room in awe, trying to see everything as much as they could.

He glared lightly at the two younger angels with their Father, little Akeelah shrunk back at the sight of him, only just, and sat back straighter when He pressed a comforting hand to her back.

"My friends", He greeted them warmly and stood, adjusting the little fledgling to His hip as He did, Zaveriel stood in time with Him and moved at His side, "It is good to see you again."

"Uh, yea, you too man.", Dean Winchester was the first one to respond as he still looked around the grand Throne room in wonderment, "This is quite the place you got here."

He smiled at the human man, nodding as He let His eyes scan around the room as well, it truly was breathtaking to take in.

"This is only a piece of the true masterpiece, come, I will show you what there is to see."

Akeelah laid her head down on His shoulder, her eyes locking onto the one who had nearly torturing her, "Did something bad happen to you? Or are you just naturally this bad of a person?"

Zaveriel snorted softly and He turned to look at the fledgling in amazement, "Little Akeelah, what was that?"

"Nothing Daddy."

They both fell silent after that and walked with Him as He guided them all around, showing them to the garden and to the training fields. Glares were shot their way as they passed but they went mostly ignored, a few through things at them but settled under a stern look from their Father.

Zaveriel fist bumped one of the angels who had thrown a rock towards the older hunter, "Not all men are annoying. Some of them are dead."

He could feel a headache coming on.

Akeelah listened with apt attention as the seraph made his opinions known on the Choir as they passed the Pantheon and waited until Father had come to the end of His response, cutting the older angel off as he opened his mouth to speak again.

"Light travels faster than sound, which is why people like you appear bright—until they open their mouths."

They were walking passed the Aerie when Dean Winchester made the mistake of insulting the flocks, Zaveriel laughed and threw an arm around his shoulders under the closely watching eyes of his Father.

"If you see me smiling it's because I'm thinking of doing something bad, if you see me laughing, it's because I already have."

Again, another opinion was shared as they walked down the Axis, and the fledgling waited until it seemed as though it was going to continue on forever.

"Please tell me that this train of thought you're on has a caboose."

Sam Winchester added in his two cents and Zaveriel coughed into his hand, "If you're up here, then who's running Hell?"

By the end of the afternoon they had circled around to meet back in the Throne room. He was seated upon His throne again, Zaveriel standing before Him with his arms crossed, and His little fledgling leaned back against His chest and kicked her legs back and forth.

The messenger broke the quiet first, "If I promise to miss you" he looked directly at Castiel "Will you go, like, really far away?"

He scrubbed a hand down His face as the seraph and his two charges took their leave as the sun began to set, He sighed and looked to His young angels.

"What are you two up to?"

"Nothing Daddy!"

Zaveriel laughed, "You think I'm being sarcastic? Watch me pretend to care."

He narrowed His eyes "Are you two playing another one of your games?", they exchanged looks quickly, "Do you remember what I said I would do if you were caught in one again?"


	73. Heating

It didn't often snow in Heaven, but it was as it was written _'On Earth as it is in Heaven' _and thus when the white flakes fell, they reacted in kind just as their human counterparts, and thus they lived on. Windows to the many buildings were enclosed and fires were lit, and thick blankets were pulled out.

Akeelah giggled as she ran through the flurry of snowflakes, leaving behind little footprints on the stone walkway of the Axis, watching with wide bright eyes as they danced around her as they were carried around by the wind.

She slid to a stop in front of the gate, unlocking the hatch with ease, and running up the path to the villa among the nook of trees.

Burst through the door she shook the snow from her braids, shivering at the cold wind that followed after her, and kicked off her little boots. A gift from Haniel as to help her live up to her moniker of the Baby Power and she adored them.

"It's freezing!"

They were sat around the front room of their villa and chuckled at her bright exclamation, watching fondly as she scurried further into the front room, just before the glowing fire, and climbed up into the oldest archangel's lap. Michael allowed himself to be moved as he was needed to please her, shaking his hand fondly as she wrapped his arms around her little self, and leaned back into his chest.

"Are you comfortable, little one?"

She nodded, sighing contentedly, "You're warm."

"I happy I am useful."

"Thank you."


	74. Kleptomaniac

It was three days after the first, that the archangel started noticing the small items disappearing, and is was usually after the young messenger left him from their visit. He had started dropping by to visit after the battle at the gate, coming in with the same personality that his little friend did, bringing in with him the brightness that was missed when the little fledgling was out with the others.

It was also something that the Healer put a stop too almost immediately, leading him back into his office at the start of his next visit, closing the door behind him as he sat in the chair on the other side of the great desk.

"Why are you taking my things?"

There was no beating around the bush, and he gave him a careful eye as the young messenger slowly pulled the small notebook he'd snagged out from the inner sleeve of his robe and placed on the desk.

Raphael leaned forward on his desk, arms crossing, "Well?"

"It gives me a reason to come back."

It was not the response he was expecting to follow, and he took a deep breath, reaching to take the notebook back, setting it off to the side as he turned back to back to address the statement.

"What do you mean?"

"If I have your stuff then I have to keep coming back."

The young messenger looked down to his lap, fiddling with his fingers, and the Healer reached over his desk to turn his head back up for him to see into his eyes.

"You think you need a reason to come back?"

He nodded, staring into the archangel's eyes, "Well…. Yea…."

"Honestly, you were always so set in your ways of notion, even as a fledgling. You need not have a reason to visit other then I told you to."

Zaveriel smiled at the healer, "I guess…"

"You take my things because it amuses you too, don't you?"

"It's just so funny to watch you search around for it all confused like."

He tried to jump away when the Healers curled tighter around his chin, and he began to rise from his seat, "You think it's funny?", he stepped around his desk, "Let me show you something funny."


	75. Variety

They had come to learn the different meanings to their fledglings ever changing moods and the way her eyes would change as they did; bright shining eyes meant she was happy, dull downcast eyes meant she was sad, burning dark meant she was angry, and bright glowing meant she was scared.

It was something they slowly learned to piece together and work around; the Healer took her with him when her eyes became downcast and carried her around with him, offering her silent comfort in the form of him being there, she preferred to simply be held close when she was sad. The oldest Prince often took her with him when her eyes blazed in her anger, letting her help him during training, allowing her to work that rage in her belly down before swooping her up to sit on his shoulders. It was Gabriel who spent most time with her when they shined bright with happiness, chasing after her and Zaves as they pranked him, and letting her hang from his shoulders as he made his deliveries. But it was always the Morningstar that she always turned to when they glowed with fear. It was his arms she would crawl up into, his lap she would curl up in, and his embrace to hide away from the things that haunted her mind.

None of them would ever turn her away when she came to them with a different shade to her eyes, all trying to achieve the matter in getting them back to their brightness that followed with her smile but remained at her side without question as was the way with her being the youngest of their flock.

And Akeelah felt better knowing that they cared enough for her to be there.


	76. Eventually

The day that the Prisoner was able to step out of the infirmary, they stood there waiting; Akeelah with a small handful of flowers and Zaveriel stepping about antsy waiting for his friend to step out of the infirmary a free man once more.

It had been a grueling wait as the council of archangels reviewed his case, mauling over their decisions, and going through everything there was to go through. The thought of reimprisonment had once been the center of tension among them, Raphael and Gabriel hadn't talked for three days straight, despite the fledglings attempts to get them too (it was only when they saw how distraught the fledgling had gotten did they finally start to speak to each other again) they ignored her attempts and avoided each other as much as they could.

Michael had locked himself up in his room for nearly the week following, only allowing the little fledgling entrance, as it was ultimately his decision on the fate of the brother in question.

Then the day came, and the verdict was passed.

Gadreel stepped out of the Infirmary, raising a hand to block the nearly blinding glare from the sun above, and met the smiling angels standing in wait for him at the steps. He walked forward to meet them, slow steps, small steps, and they waiting patiently never breaking their smiles.

Zaveriel reached a handout to him, "Welcome home."


	77. Forfeit

It was something akin to a court martial, standing before the Council of Archangels with two Power's at ones side, the others standing at attention behind you, the archangels eyes boring into you with a burning anger. It was not something that had been enacted among them in many eons, the last having been the Morningstar himself, it was not a position that anyone wanted to find themselves in.

Zaveriel glared right back at him.

There was no remorse for his actions against their human allies and those they had in the underworld as allies, no remorse for his cruel attack on another angel, two angels. There was no hint of remorse as he stood before them, shoulders taught with tension, chin raised slightly in defiance, his only regret was allowing himself to be caught so quickly.

Michael stared him in the eye, his own gaze as hard as brick, there was no place for such attacks against each other in this new Heaven they were trying to make anew. The younger angel stared right back, refusing to back down, refusing to quail under his intense gaze, and it was something that struck a nerve in the oldest archangel.

Zaveriels aim was so well tuned because of his training, when the messengers had been dispersed throughout during the war he had fallen under the Warriors, he had caught on quickly and slowly began rising through the ranks. He had once been under Nisroc's command, a Power who stepped down from the position as soon as he was welcomed back into his role as a messenger. His was a dangerous opponent to stand against and he had abused his trainings for personal vendettas.

"Do you know why you stand before us today?" Michael's tone was harsh, the anger he felt at his teachings being used in such a way lit a fire within him, despite the intention there was no right in attacking those you know don't stand a chance against you. It was not something he was going to tolerate.

The young messenger nodded stiffly.

"I want a verbal response."

"Yes. Sir."

Michael slammed his hand down on the table, making the others around him jump in surprise, despite Gabriel being the young angels master it fell under his discretion due to the severity in the situation. Even the Power's seemed unsettled, though they made no step backwards, but the young messenger merely rolled his shoulders and maintained the oldest archangel gaze.

He stood from his seat, "You attack two unarmed angels, set harm to two humans, and nearly decapitated a demon. All who sit as our allies. And yet you stand before us as though you couldn't care less."

Zaveriel raised his chin again, anger glinting in his own eyes, "I care, Sir, I care that I was stopped before I finished what was set out to happen. I only did what others wanted."

The Archangel narrowed his eyes at the challenge presented to him without being spoken, the messenger was daring him, daring him to lay down punishment for his crime. It was true, his words, there was no fans among the host for those particular individuals. Most would rather see them on the end of a sword and preferably their own.

"I want your staff.", Zaveriels jaw set dangerously, "And your bow."

"Sir."

Michael met his challenge head on, lowering his own chin in return to the others defiant uplift, arms crossing over his chest as he stared the younger messenger down.

"You have given up your right to have them attacking those who stand as our allies unprovoked."

The young messenger handed his weapons off hotly to the Power's standing at his sides, glaring at the Archangel in defiance, and Michael narrowed his eyes at the continuance of the challenge.

"And you are confined to your quarters until further notice."

Zaveriels fists tightened at his sides, "How long."

"Until I _say_."

He turned to look at his master for his own input to which he nodded stiffly in agreement with the other archangel.

The youth nodded stiffly at the command and the two Powers at his side turned to escort him back to his quarters lest his never make it. Michael sat back heavily in his chair, rubbing at his eyes for a moment, and turned an impressed glance to his younger brother.

"Brother, I commend you, how do you manage to keep him in line so easily?"

Gabriel hummed, turning to look over at him for a moment, "With the threat of sending him to see Raph if he doesn't cool it."

He turned to look at the brother sitting on his left, Raphael met his gaze, an eyebrow raised, arms crossed loosely at over his chest. Anyone who managed to reign in that menace was someone to be revered.

"How does he still obey you despite being under the Messengers charge?"

The Healer hummed deeply, "He has felt the sting of a switch more then once in his lifetime."


	78. Offensive

Akeelah sat on the table, kicking her feet back and forth, quite as she watched her best friend punch their least favorite brother in the face. He had said something, what ever it was too soft for her to catch, but the messenger had and reacted in kind to it with his fist.

The other angel stumbled back, beside him the Messenger surged to his feet, and for a moment the fledgling was sure that he was going to get on her friends case. But he started in on the bleeding angel on the floor instead, not seeming to bat an eye when his second in command turned on his heel and walked back over to where she was perched, he held his hand out for her and she took it as she hopped down from her perch on the edge of the table.

The elder hunter came to the angels defense, helping him back to his feet, and the Messenger turned to face the new challenge without fear.

She looked up at her friend as they walked from the room hand in hand, "What did he say?"

"Nothin to worry your pretty little head over, okay?"

"Ok Zaves."

A beat of silence passed as he walked her up the winding staircase and out the door into the shining sun above them, he shielded his eyes and turned to look upwards, nothing was coming for them, so he was sure that it was not going to lead him into trouble for attacking as he had.

"You really got him good though."

"I did, didn't I!"


	79. Space

He knew at first meeting that the fledgling was frightened of him being too near, despite the shining eyes and happy smile that adorned her features, he knew that his being too close did more harm then good.

And thus, he kept himself at a distance.

After all, one must start small to reach something big, and he was willing to start as small as he needed to in order to get the end result as something huge. She smiled at him every time archangel brought her with him to the training fields. Though she spent most her first few visits hanging onto the back of the Commander's robe, she slowly began to open up, asking her archangel guardian if she was able to walk among them to watch to which he softly agreed.

He watched her closely, in the case of any unintentional swipes in her direction but maintained the distance between them.

The older angel sat among the others, adjusted a strap curling around his side, looking down to the dirt covered ground when he saw the two little feet step up before him. He looked up to meet the nervous eyes of an even more nervous fledgling, her little hands curled around the little belt tied around her waist, and she stared up at him for a long tense moment.

"I'm Akeelah."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, little Akeelah." He held out his hand to her, the one not adjusting the strap on his side, and she gingerly took it. Her little fingers barely managed to wrap around his entire palm. "My name is Nisroc." He felt something inside of him grow warmer when the fledgling, little Akeelah, gave him a small smile in return.

From there it started to climb upwards.

Akeelah would always find him to say her welcome when they arrived, something he returned softly in kind, and she would disappear back to the Commanders side once more.

It turned to simple greetings to small conversations.

Turned from small conversations and quick meetings to them walking together among the training warriors.

And from there it continued to climb, their friendship started to bud into a beautiful flower, and the once shy tiny little fledgling went from being too nervous to even look at him to riding around on his shoulders as they did their rounds together. When she came to the training field it as rarely one without the other.

Akeelah always ran up to him, gave him a hug in greeting, and pulled him forward so they could look around.

She had been just as shy around the others when they'd first introduced themselves, this time clinging to the back of his own leg and peeking around at the taller angels that stood before her.

But like their own friendship, it built from something small, into something great.

And now the smallest fledgling in Heaven had the most lethal force under only the Archangel's themselves at her beck and call.


	80. Survival

One didn't live long if one was weak.

That is what they were taught from the start of their young age.

Weakness was exploited and only the strong would survive. Weakness got you hurt, it got you in trouble, and there was no place for it.

Akeelah knew how to continue living on, she knew how to be strong, she knew how to _survive_. It was something someone her age had to learn quickly living through the experiences she had lived through. Away had gone the innocence and the childlike traits, and in their place was something that was far older then it should have been, fearlessness and the notion that one must get the other before they got them instead.

There was nasty habits that had to be made in order to survive; learning to fight before learning to fly, knowing where to hit to cause the most damage, and never ever allowing anyone to see you showing any weakness.

After the war was ended, and the four Princes reunited, the Morningstar reinstated to his position among the Host, and Father returning with Aunt at His side there was not a day during those months that followed that reminders of all of their mistakes didn't come to be in their line of sight.

Most were in the form of a little fledgling who had learned to survive on her own.

Michael saw the way she would survey her surroundings before allowing herself to be distracted, he saw the way that she always found a way to escape if the need arose to, and he saw the little muscles tense when someone she didn't know step close to her as though waiting for the other to attack first.

Lucifer saw the way she kept to herself, choosing to hum under her breath instead of for others to hear, how she made sure that no one underestimated her as she moved about fearlessly, how she always looked around her carefully as though waiting for the other foot to drop.

Gabriel saw it in her smile, it was always hiding something behind it, something with intent to never be caught unawares, he saw it in her interactions with others around her making sure she kept them at arm's length as best as she could to ensure they couldn't get in close enough for the possibility they may strike.

It was Raphael that saw things start to change, he had seen the way she shied away from comfort and made sure to be there when it was needed. He saw the way she would keep to herself and would find different things to draw her out again. He was the first one to help her after she saw someone from a hidden past, the first one to see her fearlessness crumble around her, to see the perceived _weakness_ and encouraged her to let it out without hiding it again.

To show her that weakness was just as important to surviving as strength was.


	81. Captured

"Zaves?", the little voice was the first thing he heard as he came into awareness, the little hands tugging at his top, and slowly cobalt eyes blinked open into the darkness that surrounded them, "Zaves I'm scared.", he blinked a few more times until his eyes adjusted to the sudden darkness and he could see the faint outline of his little friend sitting just beside him. She looked frightened, terrified a more apt description, gone was the usual fearlessness that normally exuded from her and in its place was another emotion.

He couldn't quite remember what had happened, all he _could _remember as the battle, they had breached the gates again, the Princes of Hell storming into the Axis. Angels being cut down from where they stood, the Powers running into the fray with the Warriors right behind them, the Principalities right behind them, and then the scream that caught his attention.

Everyone else was too focused on the fight at hand to notice a Knight dragging the fledgling away from the fray, most probably to be used as a bargaining chip later on, and he'd dropped out of the fighting to make chase. Right through the gates, leaving behind the sounds of clashing swords and screams of battle, he dove over the edge that they disappeared from and notched an arrow in his bow as they fell and shot it cleanly into the Knight's left shoulder.

As he slowly came to, looking around quickly taking in his surroundings, more started to fill in for him. He remembered her screaming as she was let go, free falling through the air as they slowly fell to the earth below, he had reached for her, straining against himself, just trying to reach a _few more inches_.

They fingers brushed against each other and her eyes stared up at him, wide in terror as she free fell, their hands outstretched for each other.

Then there was pain. Something had hit him over the back of the head, hard, and he'd blacked out to the scream of his friend.

"Zaves please, please wake up, please?"

He groaned in pain as the throbbing began anew, his fingers pressed into his head, and came away with stickiness. In front of him sat the fledgling, the _archangels _fledgling, and she was staring at him with wide frightened eyes. He sat up slowly, careful as the dizziness washed over him for a moment but let her pull him up completely.

"Zaves!"

His arms were full in the next moment, and he slowly curled them around the small shivering frame, pressing his cheek to the top of her braided head for a moment. She held onto him even still as she pulled away, helping him to his feet, and helped to steady him when he swayed slightly.

"Where are we?"

"I don't know, I think I do, the Knight hit you with his sword and dragged us here."

The young messenger tried to take in where _'here' _was exactly but couldn't see really much of anything. It was just so dark. He could hear the trickling of water somewhere under him, perhaps in a cavern, and it slowly trickled off until it faded completely. He found that he couldn't move too far, his ankle shackled to the stone wall behind him, the little fledgling in the one next to him.

"Akeelah?", her grip tightened as if to acknowledge that she heard his inquiry, "Are you okay?"

"I think so. I'm scared Zaves. I wanna go home."

He nodded, he wanted the same thing, though he was too prideful to admit it out loud he really wished his master was here. He always knew how to make things better, always knew what to do, and he'd find a way to get them out.

There was grinding as rusted metal rubbed against rusted metal, and light spilled into their prison, both of them squinted back from it and ducked away. In the doorway stood the silhouette of a man, short and rounded, and his shoes clicked across the floor as he walked in. Behind him came two more, larger build and more muscle, following him as though he was the one in charge. Had the situation not been so tense he would have laughed at the thoughts that circled around his head.

"What have we here?"

Zaveriel recognized that voice, but he couldn't recall from where, he knew who it belonged to but couldn't place the name for the life of him. Akeelah screamed as she was lifted off her feet, the shackle released, their hands forced apart, and he jumped forward as she was pulled from the cell with her hand outstretched for him.

The man laughed, shaking his head in amusement, and motioned for the other one to follow him as he made his way out. Zaveriel shouted and cursed, straining against his restraints, reaching for his friend in return until she disappeared around a corner and the door was slid shut leaving him struggling in nothing but darkness and silence.

…

"They are not among the wounded." The Healer admitted as he joined them in front of the Infirmary, the Choir master and Messenger looked in-ordinarily worried and the Commander looked furious, a light in his eyes being the same shine that was seen during the first parts of the war when most were able to actual lay witness to him, "There is no place else to look for them."

"Does anyone know why they attacked this time?"

Nisroc asked the question they were all thinking, but none of them had an answer, though none of them were really focused on that matter as they were missing at least two of their own and it was their priority to find them before sorting anything else out. Michael turned to his brother, the Morningstar sat on his right rubbing at his chin and his eyes were unfocused as his mind was elsewhere.

"Lucifer."

"Hmm?", the younger archangel turned to look at his older brother, "Yes?"

"Have you chosen your regent yet?"

"I have in fact, Drexel, he had treated me with respect and therefore I give it in return."

Gabriel tilted his head to the side, "Wasn't he also the one who had once made your vessel the same sort of cell as the cage had been?"

"There was that too, I need someone innovative and intelligent to serve in my absence, there is no one else but him."

Michael nodded as he spoke, curling his fingers around his own chin in thought, "Was there any who would find the decision to be distasteful?"

The Morningstar thought on his for a moment, preparing to shake his head, but stopped himself before he could, eyes narrowing in thought.

"There is one. Thinks it's his rightful place since he was given permission by one of my Princes. Ramel has no desire to take the position, I asked him, he prefers to reconcile with the other Grigori." He glanced at Nisroc for a moment, "And Titus I believe. They were once very close as I remember." He turned back to look at the older archangel, "He would be this low as to steal a fledging for his own benefit."

"Zaves better give him hell until we catch up."

…

"She won't crack, nor play nicely, bring in her little friend.", he leaned back in the throne, an unconscious demon locked in a small cage behind him, the little fledgling laying on the floor with a bruise slowly starting to darken her cheek. She turned to watch as they two wh had brought her here nodded at the command and turned to fulfill the order, leaving the two of them alone, he looked down at her in silence and she tried to remember where she had seen his face before.

"I don't know why you won't just do what you're told to." He spoke with an accent she recognized, "You wouldn't have to be hurt. Now your friend is going to be to, and it will be all your fault."

The door to the infernal throne room opened again and they walked in dragging her friend between them, despite the blood dripping down from somewhere in his hair line, Zaveriel still struggled against them. They dropped him next to the fledgling and she crawled over to him, little fingers curling into his tunic, shaking him to wake him again. His eyes were fogy and he was clearly losing focus.

He smiled at her as best as he could and pulled himself up, slowly getting to his feet, stepping in front of his younger friend. Akeelah stepped up behind him, fingers curling instead into his trousers, hiding behind his leg as he faced off against their capturer.

"It took me a minute to place where I know you from.", he pointed a finger at the one sitting in the throne, "And those idiotic Winchesters won't be able to save you now."

The other snarled at him, "Boys? If you would show our friend here his place among us."

Akeelah shrieked when he was pulled from her grasp and watched with wide eyes as he was punched hard enough in the gut that she heard something snap, he choked on a breath and fell to his knees, already injured from the battle at the gate. Her eyes watered as she turned to look back at the demon on the throne, looking smug at their predicament, "You just have to do one thing for me. One small thing. This is your doing, little angel."

…

He held the witch up by the neck, her feet kicking weakly for the purchase of the ground, the protects of the Winchesters falling on deaf ears. When someone stood against his Choir, they were standing against him in turn, when someone took _his _fledgling it was more then that.

"You better think fast", he squeezed her throat tighter, not caring when she choked on another breath, her nails clawing at his hand, "My patience wears thin. I am _not _the merciful one out of the four of us."

Castiel finally managed to break free from a Grigori's grip and surged forward, his blade sliding from his coat sleeve, raising it to strike to distracted Morningstar's back. They would be furious at his death but would thank him later for it.

Watching the seraph from his Commanders side, the chief Power stepped forward unprompted, he had not forgotten what this foot soldier had attempted to do with the Baby Power. He shoulder checked him hard, the blade clattering out of his hand, and with a palm flat against his chest knocked the seraph off his feet and thrust him into the ground. The air was knocked out of him, slim fingers curling around his wrist, but he hadn't become Chief by being easily outdone. Nisroc applied more pressure until the ribcage under his touch creaked against his hand, "Stay down." He stood after another moment and stepped on his hand as he moved back to his commander's side, smirking when he heard the bones in his fingers crack under him.

Michael turned to him with a disapproving look, "I raised you better than that Nisroc."

"Sir, pardon my bluntness, but I was merely protecting my Princes from such trash."

"Pardoned, and perhaps a bit of personal vendetta."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

…

"Akeelah…", blood spilled down his chin, but the messenger managed to speak her name still, "Akeelah…" the fledgling was crying, he didn't like it when she cried, and her face appeared in his blurry vision. He blinked when a tear drop splashed on his forehead. Reaching a shaking hand up he brushed it over her cheek to wipe away the wet trail. "Don't…Cry…."

"Fetch our guest the holy oil.", she clenched her fists in fear and anger, eyes staring down into her friends, Zaveriel would protect her to his last breath and endure a thousand years of torture for her and she was going to return the favor. His eyes widened at the glow that began to emanate from her clenched fists, and he tried to push himself up, he was one of the few who had seen what she was capable of power wise. For such a tiny thing there hadn't been much left to salvage.

"Akeelah…. No…."

She shook off his hand and slowly pushed herself to her feet. The demon on the throne had wanted her grace, much like the mean Prince had taken Gabriel's, and expected her to give it to him because he had asked her nicely for it. As she clenched her fists tighter the glowing got brighter, her iridescent blue eyes began to light up in a fury that no one her age should be capable of having, if he wanted her grace then she'd give it to him.

The tension in the room grew tighter, the air around them growing thin, the two demons who had been beating on her friend bent over hacking for a breath of air. Gravity buckled and little pebbles and stones began to lift into the air, her braids lifted with the same force, and the demon could finally see his error in judgement and how much he had underestimated a fledgling angels power.

He stumbled back over the thrones arm, when her little hand lifted, palm open towards the ground. It was like the room was vacuuming in on itself, and as her fingers slowly closed, the room seemed to close in on itself the tension around them became so thick.

Finally, she placed his face to the name she knew, **_"Crowley."_** And the room imploded into madness.

…

Sam Winchester froze up midstep, much like the others did in turn, watching as reality starting to combust around them. Tree's wilted and stone melted, he coughed as the air was seemingly pulled from his chest by an unseen hand, whatever the Crossroads demon had done had backfired on him. He knew that much.

They stormed into the Throne Room with weapons blazing, stopping short, he made his way forward to stand between the Prince and his Power. There seemed to be a barrier around them, perhaps the affects calmed by the presence of the four archangels in one place, but the others weren't so lucky. The two Demons nearest them were shivering on the floor, struggling to breath, their faces going purple.

Crowley was sprawled on his back before the throne.

And down the steps from the King's throne came the little fledgling. She was awe inspiring and fearsome at the same moment, her eyes glowing bright against the dark backdrop of Hell's throne room, burning bright like a star. A star about to explode into a blackhole.

"Lucifer." The Healers voice echoed in his ears as he tried to speak over the whining in the air around them "You need to calm her down." He nodded at the given order and stepped forward, he knelt first next to Zaveriel and whispered something down to him, whatever was said seemed to satisfy him for the moment and he moved on to kneel before the fledgling. He whispered something to her that was drowned out by the building tension filled silence, she didn't appear to respond to whatever was said to her, but it was something that got her to calm herself. The glowing died down ever so slowly, and she dived forward into his chest, he wrapped his arms around the fledgling and stood. Pebbles fell to the floor, the tension released, and the air in the room surged around them like a wave rolling through the ocean.

The Morningstar handed her off to the Commander and turned back around to converge on the one ballsy enough to take _his _fledgling from him.


	82. Conspiracy

"They're out to get us."

It was the third day in a row that the two troublemakers were spotted plotting something between the two of them, caught whispering and giggling to each other. They had been scribbling something on a piece of parchment shared between the two of them. Whatever it was had at least three days of planning behind it, perhaps more, so it was bound to be something big that was being planned as well.

Next to him, Raphael chuckled at the Messengers complaining about the supposed trick that was headed their way, "I do not know what you are worried about. That messenger of yours is not foolish enough to try and get one over on me."

Despite Gabriel being his master, Zaveriel only ever avoided the Healers wrath, something that left his master in anguish trying to figure out his secrets. The Healer would merely chuckle and shake his head, his discoveries and subsequent victories, were his and his alone.

They both knew that Michael would return the trick on them, despite his stern appearance on the battlefield and among training sessions, he was surprisingly playful away from public eyes.

So that left the Messenger and the Morningstar.

Little Akeelah was no foolish enough to torment her own Master, something she had learned, he was a sore loser when it came to practical jokes.

It was a work in progress between her and the Healer.

"Raph, come on, please!" he was not above begging when he knew that it was him who was most certainly on the butt of this joke that was about to be played, "They've been giggling about it for _three days_."

"I would help you, little brother, but it was you who said you could handle your own problems and that you were fully grown not just last week."

"Come on! You chose now to listen to me!"

He narrowed his eyes when the Healer chuckled again, turning back to the volume he was reading through, on their day of rest they enjoyed together. Lucifer and Akeelah were playing in the lake, and the fledgling with her wide bright eyes, had managed to convince Michael to join them.

Gabriel pointed an accusing finger at his older brother, "You're in on it!"


	83. Distinguishing

When the Choir finally reconvened and began spreading the hoy of their music for the others to hear, there was always one who stood out, hoping among those that would stop to watch and listen.

The little thing sung to her own tune, adding her personality to her music, dancing along happily to whatever it was they were sharing.

They needed no conductor, but the Choir Master was always there, making sure they stayed in time and watching for any that needed to step down. He followed the path of the little one hopping about and twirling happily to the beat they produced, carrying the song through the crowd itself.

She always stood out from the others, stopping to hug the three Powers, high fiving a few messengers taking a break to listen, dancing around others and between them all.

Her love for what they did was evident in everything she did as they continued, it was her comfort zone, what she loved to do.

It was clear to the others as to why she was named the pride and joy of the Choir, why she was the obvious favored of the Choir Master. She spread joy in her voice, happiness in the way she twirled, others couldn't help but smile when they saw her.

She was an outcast among fledglings, preferring to wander on her own instead of clinging to the presence of the others, she was adventurous and enjoyed spending time with the mighty archangels. Unlike her fellow fledglings, she wasn't terrified of them, she enjoyed hanging from their shoulders or perching upon them. She stood out among them all for her strength despite her age and just how forgiving she was to those who showed her the right path.

Meanies were still treated in similar fashion as before.

Little Akeelah was different from other fledglings. Her flock mates were Archangels. She had the strength of the Power's at her call, who would happily declare war on anything for her happiness and wellbeing, as she had their Chief wrapped around her finger. Not to mention the Commander.


	84. Fresh

The Gardener helped the little one hop down from a low hanging branch, holding a rounded ripe peach in one hand, and clutching at his robes with the other, he held her for a moment as she kissed his cheek sweetly and bent to set her on her feet.

"Enjoy your peach, little one."

"Thanks Joshua!"

He waved as she skipped down the path and away from his garden, she would be back later for more, but for now he returned to humming to himself under his breath and tending to the flora.

Akeelah skipped down the Axis, it being a Wednesday, she skipped to the Infirmary and began hopping up the steps while munching happily at her pilfered peach. She crested the top of the granite staircase, skipping into to Infirmary, she passed a bed with a familiar face and backtracked to give them a hug and offer another peach she pulled from inside her robe. They thanked her for the hug and the sweet fruit, and she continued skipping along on her way, looking for the tall archangel that let her walk around with him.

The Healer wasn't tending to anyone at the moment, his back facing her just a bit a way away, before him stood what appeared to be another class. As they got further into rebuilding as such recommenced the classes for those sorted into their chosen legion, she was still a bit too young to officially be sorted, perhaps in the next coming eon or two. But for now, she was in the legion her flock was created to, and they learned new songs almost every week, it was taking some time to get everyone on board but some of the older Choir members began spreading their music for the Host again. Jeremiah was helping the progress greatly.

She smiled and took another bite from her peach, running down the aisle to hug herself around the archangel's waist from behind, he took a step forward at the sudden impact but smiled down to her all the same.

Some of the class looked confused at her appearance, they had been present for the claiming ceremony when the fledgling had been adopted into the Archangels fold, but many had not seen her in person. She was even smaller then they had first though at first sighting those weeks passed, and her eyes brighter then first appearances, but the smile she brought to the hard-shelled Healer's features was never missed.

He swiftly bent to scoop her up on his arm, raising an eyebrow at the sight of the ripened peach, "Did you sneak one of my peaches again?"

Akeelah giggled, "I don' see your name on it."

"No? I can show you where it is."


	85. Protocol

When the terrors haunted their fledgling in the dark hours of the night, it was a scream that woke them, and from their beds they would come. They congregated with their little fledgling in tow with her master, into the sitting room, laying among the soft blankets and rugs, against the man fluffy pillows strewn about in that part of the room, and between them all they would set her until the fear passed and her breathing calmed.

The Commander would hold her back against his chest, his arms wrapping around from behind her, long fingers curling her glowing little palms closed.

To his left the Healer would rub soothingly at her temple, whispering softly under his breath in the ancient tongue of the four eldest beings, she wasn't ever sure what he was saying but based on the looks of the others it was probably something nice.

To his right was the Messenger, pulling her little feet into his lap, thumbs rubbing over her little soles. Sometimes tugging at her toes until she kicked lightly and graced them all with a small shaky smile.

And in front of him was the Morningstar, humming under his breath, eyes locked with hers in silent comfort. They kept eye contact until her eyes returned to normal, from which she would crawl sleepily back into her master's lap, and he would lay them both down among the soft rugs and pillows, pulling a blanket up over her as she curled into him to return to sleep. Around them the others would follow suit, keeping near enough that if she were to wake again, they would all be there, she could see them there, hear their breathing.

And then they'd all go back to sleep.


	86. Punk

Gabriel looked between the three of them from over his desk, arms crossed, and something akin to sternness in his gaze as he looked between the three of them. They had gotten into a bit of a brawl out in the front, on the veranda wrapping around the Aerie, and it had been bad enough that some had gone to fetch him from his office. And thus, they had been pulled into the office, where others warned never to be pulled into, and the door closed behind them.

Seemingly, their brawl had first started in the garden, as the three of them were covered in dirt. The two young messengers looked uneasy, fearful even, it had not been the first time they had been pulled into the Messengers office for fighting, in particularly with the other little fledgling. They were antsy, fidgeting with their short robes, nervously looking between their master and the wall behind him.

The Messenger had taken after much of the Healers methods in rearing proteges.

The only one who didn't look nervous despite the precarious situation they found themselves in was the little fledgling of their own, she stood defiantly, arms crossed over her own chest, staring right back at him. She wasn't remorseful, not in the slightest, and was upset that the brawl had been interrupted by the Archangel's stepping in.

"Do any of you have anything to say for yourselves?", when none made any attempt to cut in, he turned to look at their daring little fledgling, "What have we told you about fighting."

She glared daringly right back, and he narrowed his eyes, her shear stubbornness would get her into trouble.

"Not to."

"And why do you continue to do so."

"They started it."

He resisted the urge to heave a sigh, "You don't have to continue it."

She huffed and crossed her arms tighter and he knew there was nothing more he was going to get from her. Her stubbornness knew no bounds. Knowing he was going to get nothing more from her he instead turned to his two young messengers. "Nathanael, Brachial, I've had to deal with this sort of behavior from you two before. Do you recall what I said would happen if it happened again?"

They nodded nervously, clenching at the bottoms of their robes, looking up at him with more remorse then their companion had. They were at least sorry for their wrongs. Perhaps more so because of the repercussion but some remorse was better then none. He sighed, rubbing a hand down his face, and finally stood from his seat to step around his desk. Nathanael and Brachial looked nervous at his approach, the rumors they had heard stood with the threat that had been given last time, and he knelt before their own little fledgling first, taking her by the shoulders as he did. Their eyes had locked, she would never break his gaze first, and he knew that he had her undivided attention.

"You go stand yourself in that corner over there until I call you, and you can count on being put to bed early, do I make myself clear?"

She huffed and nodded, turning to pull away from his grip to stand in her corner, she would stand there for maybe two minutes stewing in her anger before it sizzled out and she got upset.

The corner was the best tool they had in their toolbox.

He turned to the young messengers, "As for you two, come with me, we will take this in the next room over.", he guided them out the door with a hand behind each of their necks. By the time they returned all three young angels were in tears; two of them rubbing at their rumps and one reaching for him from the corner. The Messenger lifted the two of them to sit on his desk and stepped over to the corner to pick up the littlest of the three fledglings.

Perhaps next time they would think about fighting with each other.


	87. Speech

Nisroc cared for both of them, they were both his favorite young angels, he was quite taken with them and it pained him to have them dislike each other as much as they did. His unofficial charge and favorite little Baby Power (only Baby Power) were both important to him and he wanted them to get along, not so much as be friends if they did not want such a thing, but at least talk to each other with an argument coming from it.

He had brought the matter up to the Commander, who knew how taken he was with the young trainee and had sought his opinion on the matter.

Which was why him and his trainee were excused from training for the afternoon, heading towards the garden, where it was said that the Baby Power was spending her afternoon.

They entered the garden side by side and were immediately greeted by the soft-spoken Gardener as he hedged at an unruly bush, they greeted him in return and followed the nudge in the one direction, as though he knew who they were looking for. The two of them followed his gesture and stepped behind a few trees to come across a clearing that none knew existed there until this moment.

There seated in the soft grass was the fledgling in question, plucking at random pieces of grass, humming to herself under her breath as she slowly weaved together a small crown of tulips.

Nisroc cleared his throat to make their presence known, and bright eyes looked up in surprise at the appearance of another to this hiding spot she had found for herself. Her eyes brightened at the sight of her Power friend, and the Chief waved in greeting, setting his hand back on the youth's shoulder at his side, and her eyes noticeably darkened at the sight of him.

She got to her feet sloppily, nearly falling over as she stumbled after such a time of not moving from one position and glared at him as she made to pass. Clearly not happy with him that he ruined her time with bringing the _other one_.

He snagged her around the waist in one foul swoop as she made to pass, fingers digging lightly into her side when she began to squirm to be set down, and the fledgling fell still.

"Not so fast, you."

The Power carried her against his side and guided the young trainee back to where she had been sitting previously and sat them both down in the spot in the grass, he himself sitting with them, he held the fledgling in his lap knowing from past experience that if she was given the chance she would make a break for the exit and then not talk to him for a two days until he brought it to an end with a trip to the Pavilion and exploring all the places that made her squirm and giggle.

"This feud has got to come to an end. I care for both of you greatly. And to see you act this way towards one another pains me deeply."

Still, though, they glared at the other.

_"__Akeelah."_

_"__Pauline."_

The young boy scrunched up his face at the misname given to him, and she knew it upset him, her smile showed that she did. He heaved a sigh and got the impression that this was going to take a while to accomplish.

He turned to his student first, "Paul, we have talked this through, why do you continue to treat her this way?" The Power got no response from the young trainee and so he turned to the fledgling he held in his lap, "What of you, little one, I know you have a kind heart as I have seen it with my own eyes, why do you not show it to him."

She was silent for a moment, still grumpy about the fact that with his arm curled around her waist she couldn't jump up and make her escape, "He was mean to me!"

"Which he has apologized for."

"'t means nothin'.", she mumbled as she leaned back into his chest, "Still a jerk."

"And you're still a fledgling!", finally the young boy chimed in, glaring at the younger angel, and Nisroc resisted the urge to sigh again.

"I _am _a fledgling, _stupid_!"

He gave young Paul a look of warning and curled his fingers over his little friends mouth, "We are not going to argue. On the count of three, you will both tell me what continues this animosity between you two."

Nisroc counted softly and waiting for the two to do as he said, glaring at each other, they spoke in sync, "_He's_ (_She's_) taking you away from me!", and glared harder when they realized they said the same exact thing. It took him by surprise for a moment, but was heart warming all the same, he knew that they hadn't had many they could rely on during the fighting that had been lived through for thousands of years, and to think that was one of the reasons they didn't like each other; they thought the other was stealing him away.

"I am not going anywhere.", he tightened his grip around her waist and set a hand on the other's head, "And no one is taking me from the other.", they both a bit more relieved, and they sat in silence for a long time after that, the trainee laying back in the warm grass and the fledging playing with the fingers that curled around her belly securely.

"An' I just don't like him."

This time he didn't stop himself from sighing.


	88. Human

Akeelah like humans, they were fun and creative and bright, she loved to watch them do what they did and succeed where they succeeded. She had met some nice ones at a funfair her master had taken her to and ran around with fellow children playing and eating treats, until her guardian had called to her that it was time to go. She bid them goodbye and asked her choir master if they could play again.

She liked humans with a passion.

But she hated the Winchesters just as potently.


	89. Naughty

"I know you are sorry, little one.", The Commander led their tearful fledgling to his often by a gentle grip around her little hand. She didn't try to tug free, as she had when they had started doing this routine when it came to redirecting wrongdoings, the little one had learned that struggling against it gained her more time in the dreaded corner. "But we told you about hitting people unsolicited."

"But he hit me first! You said I could get back if they hit me first!"

"Yes, but it was surely an accident, he even apologized after.", he opened the door to his office and guided her in first, "You did not have to punch him."

"You're not being fair!" she tugged her hand from his, crossed her little arms over her chest, and glared up at him with darkened eyes, "You said I could!"

"Only when they do it with ill intent, Akeelah, you know this."

She only huffed and said no more in return, choosing to glare up at him angrily instead, to convey her anger at him in silence rather then protest verbally. He had to resist the urge to smile at her stubbornness, it was a quality that amused him to no end, and perhaps always would.

The Archangel followed her lead and stepped around her to sit at his desk, trusting Nisroc to handle things in the training field until they returned, he sat in his chair and leaned back watching her in the same silence she watched him in.

"The longer you fight me on it will result in longer the time you stand there."

"But Mik—"

_"__Akeelah."_

The older archangel never played fair, he didn't get mad like the others, he didn't scold, he didn't yell. He could portray his disappointment in a single tone to speak her name in, and it hurt more then any scolding she could ever receive, and she's received quite a few.

Instead of arguing the point further, she stepped around to stand in the aforementioned corner, he let her stand there for a little over five minutes before standing from his desk and walking for the door again.

He held his hand out to her, "Come little one, you are through, we shall go an apologize too.", she nodded, running over to take his hand, tugging on it slightly until he bent at the knee and let her jump onto his back.

"You are truly more trouble then you are worth."

"You _love _me."

"More then you know."


	90. Paranoid

When they returned from Hell, the messenger had been escorted to the Infirmary immediately, the fledgling was quickly cleared for any injury to herself, and besides a broken wrist was given a clean bill. Though she was permitted to leave, as any friend would, she refused to leave her friends side.

Zaveriel hadn't protested the fledging sitting in his lap, her eyes peering into his, as they check over his wounds. The cuts and bruises, the soreness in his ribs, the odd angle of his left ankle. They just stared at each other without speaking a word. It concerned the ones tending to them, and more than once did they spare the Healer a glance, where he stood as to not overcrowd them preparing concoctions for the two of them to aid them in sleeping through the night. The young messenger refused to let her go when a healer asked him to as to bind his ribs and didn't push the matter when the little fledgling looked up at him with blazing eyes.

She instead worked around the fledgling taking up a perch in his lap, her little fingers clutching at his sleeves as he clutched at the back of her robe. His ankle was set and still not a sound was made, not a whimper or a wheeze, they just stared at each other. Their grip evidence that they had been separated whilst in their captivity and now that they were together again refused to allow it to happen a second time.

"You were gonna let them burn you."

The fledgling broke the silence first, continuing her stare into his eyes, her voice so soft it was nearly missed. Raphael looked over in alarm at the admission into what was experienced, fingers stopping their sifting through the different colored bottles for the right ingredient he was looking for.

"A thousand times to save you."

His friend pulled him from his own silence, and she folded herself against her friend, with her ear pressed against his chest to listen to his buzzing grace. He wrapped her up in his arms and hugged her close, burying his face into her shoulder as he did. The other healers left them be beyond that, not wanting to pull any strings from the high-strung messenger and fledgling.

Raphael found what he was looking for and quickly stirred it into the two mugs he'd concocted together, nodding to the others to leave them and attend to the others, they left with little prompting with one final look back at the fledgling and her friend.

"Take these.", they looked up at his soft command and took the mugs he held out, the elder watching patiently as they took a sip each, and then nudged them off with a gentle hand. Sitting beside them, he lifted his arm, and let the messenger crawl forwards, practically curled in his lap, with their little fledgling in tow.

And he just held them, well into the night, even as they settled into light slumber. Comforting them in the form of solid presence, his arms tightly curled around them, both their heads nestled under his chin.

He just held them.


	91. Riot

The factions were always at each other's throats for one reason or another so when protests arose from between them it didn't come as a surprise to anyone. When it spilled out into the Axis, it began a bit more looked into, the Power's were called in to ensure that no one was too harmed and the turmoil between them didn't get too messy.

It did come as a surprise for the Powers though, when they arrived to maintain the protests, to find the two friends yelling back and forth at each other. Zaveriel and Akeelah were standing on opposing sides, and upon listening in closer, it was found that they were shouting the most abstract things at each other.

Nisroc rubbed at his temple as he stepped between the two of them, "What are you two doing?"

"We're trying to fit in man."

"Stickin' it to the man!"


	92. Waste

"You people are destroying this world."

They had taken the fledgling down to earth to visit and actual beach, and she had been ecstatic to see the bigger waves clapping up against the sandy shore, looking up to her master with wide hopefully inquisitive eyes he chuckled and nodded to her silent question of permission.

Michael looked down to his side as the little braided head ran past him, watching as the little fledgling ran into the salty waves, and jumped over them as they rolled in.

They sat some ways away, the Messenger breaking off from their quartet to join the fledgling jumping around in the water, watching fondly as the archangel scooped the fledgling up mid jump and she shrieked in excitement as he held her up and waded out deeper into the water.

"She really is the brightest fledgling I know."

Her master nodded at the older archangel, smiling at her happy giggling as she played in the deeper water safely tucked in the Messengers arms, the Healer hummed and leaned back in the sand "I hope someone put sunscreen on her."

"I doubt she'll get burned Raph, Dad loves her too much for that, she'll be fine."

"Right, and when she's crying later because it burns, you can eat your words."

Lucifer sighed heavily and nodded, "I made sure to coat her in it before we came."

Father had done His best to make this day of rest good for everyone involved and had invited the Winchesters and their angel for the gathering on the beach, despite the protests from the little fledgling and her guardians.

They arrived some time later, their beloved Impala breaking the calming silence, and they looked up to the sky as if asking for strength for the next following hours. Hopefully the Messenger could keep their fledgling distracted enough that she paid the three of them just to arrive no mind.

The Winchesters and Castiel set up their place next to them in the sand, settling a large cooler of beer to one side, and a radio blasting classic rock on the other. Dean Winchester was quick in running into the water, something that the Messenger saw and was quick to turn away from to keep the fledgling happy in their playing, and Sam Winchester sat himself on their blanket and pulled a book from his bag next to him.

"Brothers." It was Castiel who tried to start conversation that was unwanted from him, and he seemed offended when they didn't immediately respond.

Lucifer ignored him completely, pointedly watching his fledgling that the uppity seraph had once tried to torture, smiling to himself when Gabriel wrapped his arms around her entirely and gave a soft warning before sending them both under water.

And from next to him, Raphael did much of the same, it had been him to seal up the hole that had nearly been drilled completely into her temple. Him who had listened to her cries as he disinfected it and him who had carried her around for the next hour as she cried herself into sleep. He had nothing to say to the Seraph who was the cause of such a horrid time.

Beside them both, Michael heaved a sigh, and chose to take the higher ground, "Hello, Castiel.", though noticeably did not return the gesture of calling him a brother. There was much Michael was willing to forgive in the name of maintaining peace but attempting to break into a fledglings mind was not one of them.

He was no brother of his.

The seraph tried to make small talk for a few more minutes before it became clear that the Archangel had no real interest and fell silent perched next to the hunter on their blanket.

Akeelah and Gabriel played in the water until nearly half passed three, and then moved to the beach to build a large sandcastle, if the Messenger cheated with his grace, he would never admit to it. Once their grand palace was complete, they washed the sand off in the shallows, and raced one another to the blanket that had been laid out. Gabriel settled in between the Commander and Healer as the little fledgling climbed into her choir master's lap. Lucifer lifted his arms slightly to allow her to get comfortable in his lap, before lowering them again, curling them around her as she leaned back into his chest.

They watched the sun slowly set over the water, Dean Winchester made his way back to their own blanket, and the little fledgling _ooh'd _and _aww'd _at the brilliant sunset. The stars soon lit up the night sky and the moon illuminated above the rumbling sea.

"You are going to kill it with all your trash."

The fledgling refused to look at them, instead choosing to follow her masters finger as he pointed out the constellations above them.

"And I will be sad to see it go, but I'll be there to say I told you so."


	93. Cut

"Sir?", the knock on the door had him looking up from the papers he was rifling through, "Yes Rosemary?", she smiled at the archangel and nodded towards her side, "There is a little one here to visit you."

He smiled at the implication and waved her on to invite them in, she nodded and stepped to the side, revealing the teary eyed fledgling that he so favored. She sniffled softly and rn around his desk to reach up for his lap.

"Rapha, I got hurt!"

"You did, did you?", he bent to lift her up to take her desired seat, "Let us see."

She held her little hand up, and true enough, her little palm was skinned red. The Healer curled his hand under hers, lifting it for him to see closer.

"How did you manage this, little one?"

"I fell trying to get a peach."

He hummed and reached over her head for a rag sitting precariously on the corner of his desk, and dabbed at the skinned palm and she whimpered again, but he was gentle and hummed away the soft sounds of pain.

"And what have we said if your going to fall whiling climbing so high?"

"To not come crying to you."

She smiled up at him as sweetly as she could and he smiled back, rubbing a finger over the bridge of her nose, wrapping a bandage around her skinned little palm.

"I love you big brother."

"And I you, little one."

"Thanks for fixing my hand."

"Always."


	94. Plea

"Can you please lift me up?"

The Healer looked up from his book to smile up at the fledgling standing before him, above their heads was a tree blossoming with large plump peaches, that were just a bit too high for the courageous fledgling to climb for.

"And why do you need lifted up?"

Akeelah giggled at him and pointed up above her head, "I wanna get a peach!"

"And what do you say?"

Again she giggled, tugging at her little ear, "You're my favorite!"

Raphael smiled up at her, closing his book and set it aside, as he pulled himself up to his feet. He raised his hands slightly and she jumped into them excitedly.

"You best remember that."


	95. Dominant

There was a tone that he used that the fledgling knew he was upset, knew that it was best to let him be, do as he said, and leave it at that. He was a gentle soul, loving, gentle, until someone managed to make him boil over.

In the recuses of his mind he knew, of course, that she hadn't done anything wrong. He knew that he shouldn't have acted out against the little one as he had. But as soon as the volcano erupted it couldn't be stopped. The red haze fell away a few moments after the damage was done, and he stared down in surprise at the young fledgling cowering in front of him, bright eyes shining brighter with unshed tears. He knew that he had messed up when he reached for the shaking little thing and she flinched away from him.

He was aware of the eyes staring at him in astonishment and disbelief, he didn't need to look around as he did, the soldiers staring, his Powers slack jawed in disbelief, and his fledgling quivering in front of him as though she had been struck.

"Akeelah." But what does one say in accordance to releasing an anger on another who had not deserved it, "Akeelah, I am so sorry." He tried to step closer, but she jumped back when he did, and his heart broke in the next coming moments, she shook her head and tears finally escaped her wide eyes.

"I hate you."

That soft admission cut him deeper then any sword ever had, and he could do nothing but watch as she backed up another step, still shaking her heard, and turned to bolt away. Silence echoed louder then ever around the field as she disappeared beyond the stone tunnel.

"Nisroc.", his confidant, his Second in Command, his greatest friend raised his chin in acknowledge but dared not say a word lest it be harsh, "I fear I have made a fatal mistake." Never one to beat around the bush, he responded in kind, "I agree, sir."

He had hoped to make amends at days end, when they all gathered in their villa, sitting around the table as they always did to discuss their days and their accomplishments. Anything that may be on mind that needed voiced to another, but he knew word had spread of the unwarranted assault when he returned to the icy glares of his other brothers.

The Choir Master stood from his seat and excused himself, shooting him a icy glare over his shoulder, before disappearing in the shadows of the hall.

He was quick in noticing her absence, she usually sat next to the Healer, trying to take his mug when he turned away. But he sat alone tonight, staring down into the mug of his latest concoction, not saying a word. Gabriel was glaring at him, having always been more open to expression then most were, and he shifted in his seat.

"Where is the fledgling?"

"Why do you wanna know.", Gabriel spit at him, and he had to turn away in shame, knowing it was well deserved.

Raphael had more patience then the younger archangel did, though his eyes still burned, when he finally looked up.

"She hid herself away in Lucifer's room early this afternoon. She's refused to come out and we stopped trying to coax her.", he scrutinized the older archangel for a moment, "What were you _thinking_?"

"I was blinded by frustration and took it out on an innocent. Is she alright?"

He scoffed, "What do you think? She is petrified Michael. Only allows her master near her. Lucifer refuses anyone who tries to get close.", he rubbed a hand over his temple, "You _really_ messed up."


	96. Letter

"Gabe, what's this one for?"

The Messenger looked up from sorting the scrolls on his desk, glancing at the object that had peaked the fledglings curiosity, taking a moment to take it in.

"I told you already.", he held his hand out for it, "those are messages from Dad to the prophets of earth.", she scurried across the office and let him scoop her up into his lap, where she handed him the scroll and he shoved it into his satchel.

"What's it say?"

"Don't know. Not allowed to read those ones."

She tilted her head slightly, "How does Daddy know what to say?"

"He's really dang smart."


	97. Green

She stomped up the stone path, away from the garden, where they were supposed to meet to spend the afternoon together on this fine day of rest. It had been promised a week ago, and she'd been looking forward to it this entire time, with the new classes he had been busy and they hadn't gotten to play together for nearly a month so this was meant to be their day.

The little one had waited five minutes passed noon, surely he'd stopped to talk to someone.

Then she waited thirty minutes passed noon, she understood, people could be late sometimes.

And then an hour passed and she was still sitting all alone in the Garden. The Gardener had spared her a sad smile as she walked passed him on her way out. She walked through the crowd, her lips pursed tightly, eyes a hard blue. Others stepped out of her way at the sight, eyebrows raised in question, watching as she passed. She slowly but surely made her way to the stone steps that lead up to the training grounds, the sounds of metal clashing ringing in her ears.

There he was, practicing with another, in his tunic and trousers having discarded his armor on the warm resting day. The pair of them turned around, and she felt her jaw set tightly, of course he would be here with _Paul _instead of playing with her as he had promised to do.

Haniel watched her stand there, eyes burning holes into the back of his Captains head, and elbowed Titus in the ribs, gesturing to the fledgling when the other turned to glare at him. Of course, they had remembered the promise their Captain had made to the little fledgling last Saturday, though it seemed he himself had forgotten.

The third in command cleared his throat lightly, sharing a glance with his brother in arms, and called out, "Nisroc." The tall Captain turned at the sound of his name, raising a hand to pause their play combat for a moment, eyes meeting those of Haniel's, who jet his chin on behind him. The Power turned to look, eyes widening at the sight of the angered little fledgling, the promise he had made finally coming back to him.

"Akeelah..."

What was he to say though? He had made her a promise, sworn to play with her in the garden today, until Paul had asked if they could spare together. Time had gotten away from him after they had initially started that morning and now it was nearly midafternoon.

She crossed her arms petulantly and he knew it was well deserved.

"You promised. You said you promised."

"I know Baby Power, and I sincerely apologize, but I told Paul that we could spare today as well. Is it alright if we set out again for next Sunday. She nodded stiffly, glaring at him when he smiled and turned back to the youngling on the other side, raising his sword again for the next attack.

Akeelah trudged stiffly over to the bench where Haniel and Titus sat, polishing their swords and armor, pulling herself up to sit on the bench beside the third heatedly.

Haniel exchanged another look with the Power beside him, "He truly is sorry, for all that it's worth.", she seemingly ignored him, her eyes burning a hole still in the back of the Captains head. Another glance was shared and he set the rag aside, "We can play with you instead?", this time he got a response, a shake of the head, short and stiff, "I don't want to play now."

A day later she felt a little better, she knew people made mistakes, she made a lot and she was always forgiven for them. Nisroc was allowed to make mistakes, and besides, he had promised to play with her this Sunday instead and she was still just as excited.

She waited patiently all week for the day of rest to come again, running down the Axis towards the garden, they had promised to meet there again. She slowed down as she reached the entrance, smiling at the garden and waving happily as she walked passed, skipping along the path to the clearing that they always met in.

Abraxos and Raguel waved at her when she entered, and she waved back excitedly, the more the merrier. Splashing caught her attention and she ran around the patch of trees to see what it was, freezing in place when she finally did.

Abraxos and Raguel exchanged nervous looks at the thunderous look that crossed their Baby Power's eyes, crossing her arms angrily over her little chest, she huffed as she glared once more at the back of their captain's head, again. They had heard of last week's catastrophe from Haniel and Titus, and their Captain had been holding onto the coming day of rest all week, talking of what they were going to do when it came and how he would make it up to her for missing the last time.

And then the youngling had asked if they could go to the sparkling lake in the garden.

They knew it wasn't intentional on his part, having unofficially taken the youth underwing he was bound to spend time with him on resting days, and he had clearly forgotten his prior engagement today as well.

Abraxos coughed slightly into his hand, "Nisroc.", the Captain turned from the shallows, where him and the boy had been kicking water at one another, and the other Power nudged his chin in the direction of the trees. He turned in time to see what the matter was, and felt his heart crack a bit at the furious little fledgling staring at him, or rather, passed him at Paul.

"Akeelah.."

"You _promised! _You said _this Sunday for sure_!"

"I know, but Paul has never been swimming, we go all the time. Surely you understand. Next Sunday. I swear it to you."

She didn't nod this time, turning to sit next to Abraxos and Raguel on the soft grass, leaning back against a large tree trunk. The two of them exchanged concerned glances, "We will play with you, Baby Power.", she shook her head, silently continuing her glaring at the youth playing in the water with their Captain.

And they exchanged another look.

The first time; she forgave.

The second time; she begrudgingly forgave again

But the third time was the last straw. Paul watched as his Captain explained what had happened to the small fledgling, and how her eyes darkened as though they were the night that trapped the stars, Puriel and Titus watched on silently as the fledgling didn't utter a word to their captain, glaring up at him instead in an angered silence.

Then she turned and walked away. Leaving him watch her leave the Garden, the two other Power's shaking their heads when he turned to look at them, and Paul watched her disappear around the corner.

For an entire week she had refused to utter a single word to him, and not for his lack of trying, he would speak her way and she would straight out ignore him, blatantly so in fact. The others began to get uneasy at the tension growing from the Baby Power in regards to the Power Captain. Nisroc tried to joke, tried to start playful conversation, gave offered of riding on his shoulders, everything and anything he could think of; and only once had she responded with a mere look.

A single look, that lasted a total of three seconds, before she turned around and wandered back to the Archangel's side to take his hand instead. Michael was not so blind as to not see the rift beginning to grow between the once great friends. Next to Zaveriel, of course, Nisroc was her greatest friend too. He adored her and she loved him. He gave him an order, silently of course with the fledgling at his side, for his Captain to fix this mistake.

The next day of rest came quick enough, and this time the Power set off to find her instead, her giggling floating from the clearing they usually met up in and he smiled as he spotted his favorite little fledgling chasing after a butterfly.

He crested the tree line, and the movement caught her eye, she turned and her smile dimmed.

"Can I join you, little one?"

"No it's okay. It's a game for one."

He nodded in understanding, sitting on the edge of a tree stump, "Perhaps we can find a different game to play, just the two of us, perhaps we could go swimming? It is rather warm out, isn't it?"

She shook her head again, her eyes back to tracking the butterfly, "That's okay, Haniel said he'd go swimming with me later, and Abraxos and Puriel said they'd play hide and seek with me too.", she mumbled something under her breath that he didn't quite catch, "Besides I'm sure _Paul _wants to do something too." His eyebrows rose as the tone and he leaned back on the stump, crossing his arms loosely over his chest "I made sure that everything else was taken care of so we could spend the day together."

"Well _now _you and _Paul _can _SpEnD tHe DaY tOgEtHeR_."

"You're jealous of him, aren't you?"

That got her turning back around, her eyes blazing with a roaring fire, crossing her own arms angrily, "I'm not _jealous_!"

"Oh yes you are. You're jealous that we've spent so much time together as of late."

Akeelah stomped closer, glaring up at him despite his seated position, "I am _not_! I'm _mad _at you! You promised, _three times_, and you _broke _it!"

"And I am truly sorry, it was not something done intentionally, and I am trying to make up for it."

"Well _now _I don't want to play with you! I hate you!"

"And now you're throwing a tantrum."

She huffed angrily and shoved her hands into his chest, catching him by surprise, and he fell back over the stump he was perched up. The fledgling climbed up on it and glared down at him from where she stood over him.

"I'm _little! _I'm _allowed _to!"

Nisroc looked up at her with narrowed eyes, laying on the grass on the other side of the stump he'd been pushed off rather unexpectedly, and kicked the bottom of the wobbly stump hard enough that he through her balance. She held her arms out as she tried to steady herself, to no avail though, and fell forward in the same direction that the Power Captain lay.

He caught the Baby Power rather easily, securing his arms around her struggling form, until her stamina gave out and she collapsed on his chest with a frustrated little huff.

"You don't hate me."

She glared at him, "Yea I do!"

"No you don't, do you know how I know?" he gave her an inquiring look and she shook her head grumpily, "Because you wouldn't be giggling like so if you hated me."

"I'm not."

He flipped them over in quick succession, a hand cradling her head mindfully as they rolled, and he lay instead on her legs with her on her back this time around.

"Not yet you're not."


	98. Acceptance

He knew he was far from forgiven when the little fledgling finally stepped foot in the training fields after a long week of absence and he wasn't spared a single glance, instead the little thing ran for the legs of his Captain. He pushed away the feelings of hurt that came when she grabbed onto his hand instead of his own and took hold of the feeling of guilt instead.

It replayed on his mind, as though a record skipping track back to the beginning of the verse, over and over again the aftermath of the unwarranted ranting. The look of betrayal, the tears that glistened in those bright little eyes, the fear that had soaked away the happiness, and knowing that he was the cause of such a thing on one so young, especially the one he had sworn to protect from those things with his entire being. To know he was cause broke him in more ways then one. She skirted around him now, careful of getting too close, always making sure that someone was in between them at all times and it cut him up every time she did.

His brothers knew he was remorseful, of course they did, but didn't push the fledgling either. It was better to let her figure it out then force it upon her.

Michael had made a mistake, a costly unthoughtful mistake, and had taken them back to step one all over again. Breaking everything that had been built anew again with their fledgling in one foul swoop.

His thoughts clouded over him as he walked down the path towards the Heart of the Garden, mulling over the disaster over and over again, it never left his thoughts. If there was any chance to make it up to her he would take it, any semblance of an opportunity to get close, he would jump on it in a heartbeat.

The soft chattering in the middle of the clearing he was aiming for caught his attention, pulling him from his saddened thoughts, it was a voice he recognized and was not one he had heard since that fateful afternoon when he unleashed his foul temper on one so young.

Akeelah sat alone, in the middle of a patch of wildflowers, bending and weaving stems into the form of a crown. She was humming to herself as she did, clearly immersed in what she was doing, and he almost lost nerve and turned back lest he disturb her and cause her to skirt away again.

"I know you're there.", her tone was soft and cautious, but she didn't look up to meet his eyes as she usually did, "You can come in. The garden is for everyone to enjoy."

He stepped into the clearing, nearing the little patch of wildflowers slowly "Akeelah, if I could find the words to apologize I would. I am truly sorry for how I reacted to you."

"I didn't do anything." It was more then she had said to him all week and he took it as his present opportunity, slipping into the patch of flowers she sat in, sitting before her and crossing his own legs as he sat "All I did was ask you a question."

"I know you did, little one. I am so sorry."

She looked up at him, her eyes still cautious, as though waiting for him to start shouting again and it pained his heart to know that it as a valid fear for her to have at this time.

"You were scary. You just kept yelling and yelling, and then you started balling your fists, and I was sure you were gonna hit me."

"Never." He shook his head vehemently "I would never strike you. Never."

"But you _thought_ about it, or, why else would you ball your fists up like that."

It was regretful, but in his moment of red hazed rage, he had thought of striking out at her. It wasn't aimed at her of course, merely as a means to get his anger out in a physical sense, but it had been directed at the fledgling of his heart instead of a training dummy that he usually used in those instances.

He hated to admit it, but he had thought of striking the fledgling.

She set her half-made flower crown down, folding her hands in her lap tenderly, staring up at him with carefully contained eyes. Not daring to let too much be seen, as it was a means for someone to find a weakness in you, and she was too smart for that.

"I forgive you because it's the right thing to do." He was about to thank her as his heart filled with hope, until she stood from her place, dusting off the bottom of her robes "But I can't forget it. I don't think we should be together anymore. I won't leave the others like that. But I refuse to let myself be hurt again. And that's what you did." She stepped back a step and he felt something in him break with every little step "It was like the fighting all over again. When you found us coming together in secret. When you hit Jeremiah. I won't let that happen again. I can't." she shook her head as tears glistened in her eyes "I _can't_."


	99. Book

"Rapha?"

He looked up from his writing desk at the sound of his name and turned to the side to look in the direction it had come from, from the light of dozens of glowing candles he saw the tiny figure in his doorway. Her toes bent inwards nervously, hair done back in fresh braids, and wearing soft cotton bedclothes, Akeelah stared up at him with blinking starry eyes.

The Healer set his writing utensil down, "Yes, little bear?

She held up the thick leather-bound book that she hugged to herself, "Luci usually reads before we go to sleep, but he had to stay at the Pantheon tonight and I didn't wanna because Sariel is annoying and…...Will you read to me?"

He smiled at the fledgling, holding out an arm to her, and she scurried across the room for him to lift her up into his lap. With his other hand he took the thick story book, and nodded softly as he stood, turning them both to his large bed.

"Of course, little bear."

Akeelah smiled up at him as he settled them down against the many plush pillows he had on his bed, and he returned it when she squirmed closer to get comfortable, his chin coming to rest on her damp head as he opened the book to the marked page.

"Are you really reading a story about a giant peach?"

"I love peaches!"

Raphael kissed her head discretely, "I know you do."


	100. Hair

Michael snorted, despite the aloof appearance he tried to maintain around others, when he entered the training fields at the beginning of the day and saw his favored fledgling weaving little flowers into his Captains hair. He sat before her, under her place perched upon the bench of course, still as he could be as she worked her way through his dark locks.

"Nisroc, I fear my fledgling is making you soft."

The Power Chief snorted out loud, shaking his head slightly only to be rebuffed by the fledgling for doing so, and turned to look at him instead from the corner of his eye.

"Sir, with all due respect, you are wearing a flower crown yourself."

"Ah, yes, I want to see how many try and point it out."

Nisroc snorted again, thanking the fledgling when she pushed against his shoulders upon finishing her weaving, and stood from the dusty ground. He lifted her easily from the bench, fingers curled around her wrist, the back of her hand pressing to his palm, when she reached to be lifted and he swung her up onto his shoulders.

"She asked nicely."


	101. Sustainability

The two fighting in the square had captured the attention of all the passersby, they stopped to watch, some to cheer one or the other on in the endeavor, and a few to shake their heads disdainfully at the infighting between ones so young.

A few young squires recognized the one, from the little braids, the pendant that cinched the left shoulder of the robe they wore, the blazing blue eyes that most of them had come to recognize from only one particular fledgling, and they turned in the direction of the Heart Hall in swift haste.

It was that one day a month that all four Archangels gathered together in the Heart Hall to converse with others and themselves, and it was trusted that they would be there this time, as they were every other.

"That is more than enough."

Two large pale hands snagged them up by the backs of their robes, leaving them dangling in the air, the others quickly dispersing at the look given by the elders back to their duties at hand. The two fledglings huffed from the exertion, covered in dirt and scruff, glaring heatedly at the other.

The one who had pulled them apart cleared their throat and they turned to look at them, "What is so wrong that you two are going at it like cats and dogs?" The Choir Master didn't look too pleased at the predicament they had been called in to put an end to and gave his little fledgling a particularly stern glance.

Akeelah crossed her arms as best as she could give her position, "Jacobi said I was goin weak!"

Behind him, Gabriel snorted rather loudly while Michael and Raphael pinched the bridge of their noses, Lucifer had to resist from rolling his eyes at her exclamation.

"And so, you thought to show him otherwise?"

"Dang straight I did! I'm not goin weak!" she smiled victoriously and pointed across to the other fledgling "I showed him really good!"


	102. Asphyxiation

If there was one thing, they were all coming to find, about their beloved fledgling friend it was her ability to make them all choke on a breath at the most random of times.

Raphael was first to experience it, as he sat against the trunk of a fruiting peach tree, the shuffle of branches moved above him as little feet climbed around from branch to branch and sometimes, he would catch the peek of little fingers reaching out for the ripened fruits from within the wall of green leaves.

He closed his book as the sun drifted towards the west, tucking it into his side, he stood and dusted himself off as he prepared to make their way back to the villa. Eyes peering up into the thick green he sought out the dark blob of his fledgling companion.

"Little bear, come down now, it's time to go."

"Okay Rapha!"

He swore under his breath when, from a branch nearest to the top, the little fledgling appeared, and she jumped from the safety of the branch she had perched herself on. He rushed forward, arms stretched to catch her, and catch her he did, with perhaps a few decades shaved off his life.

"What on earth were you thinking jumping like that!"

She giggled up at him, "It was like I was flyin!"

"More like falling." he cradled her closer as he turned them around, trying to get the beating of his heart to calm itself, glaring playfully down to her when she made a joke about scaring him like she had. "You've just taken decades off my life."

"You look like it!"

"You little-!"

She had startled Michael and Nisroc at the same time, during training, one of those days she was not technically meant to be there but had refused to be put down and thus was given to Titus to watch over while they trained the graduating classes how to fight defensively with their grace.

One had gotten too close to the Power Captains face, when she managed to escape from the other arms, and ducked under Haniel when he turned to catch her, under Michael's arm to his surprise at her sudden appearance, and his eyes widened as she darted forward fearlessly.

Graces clashed together, Nisroc stood to his knees after being hit harshly in the chest, and his eyes widened as the fledgling ran as fast as she could at the warrior that had managed the hit.

Her little first was glowing, white and blue and purple, like the creation of a star in the night sky. The light trailed behind her arm, similar to the tail of a shooting star across the dark skies, and she landed a solid punch to his lower gut. The warrior yelled as he was thrown backwards and landed some feet away in a heap. Heads spun to stare at the fledgling in awe, her little fist still glowing, the light dripping from it light illuminated stardust.

"Damn."

No one is sure who said it, and they quickly dispersed backwards when the Archangel and Captain both converged on the little fledgling, one wrapping a hand around her glowing hand while the other looked her over for injury.

Nisroc was the one to break the silence "What in Father's Holy Name were you thinking!"

"No one gets to hit you but me!"

The Archangel stepped back as the Captain scooped her up, pressing her tightly to his chest, "You think _you _get to hit me?"

"Duh."

Zaveriel found it absolutely hilarious when the Messenger nearly shrieked when the tiny fledgling dove off the edge of one of the high ledges in the Aerie, and how he ran forward to dive after her. His eyes were wide with horror as he looked over the edge and yelled out angrily, waving his fist in the air, when he saw Nathanael and Brachial holding her up by the arms.

Lucifer chased after her, through the stone street, down the Axis, through the gate to their Villa and into the home. Three sets of eyes turned to watch as the fledgling appeared first, bending over on herself, little hands clasped to her knees as she huffed in breath after breath. The sound of heavy boot falls hit the outer wooden porch and she giggled frantically between huffed breaths, running forward and away from the hand that had tried to snag her up, darting to hide behind Michael at the table.

The elder archangel leaned back in his chair, feeling the small hands clasp onto his shoulders, and the fuzz from the braids rub against his cheek as she rested her chin on his shoulder.

"What happened, brother?"

"Scared a thousand years off my life it what! And that little spaz of a messenger is in on it too Gabe! I swear to Dad!" he pointed a finger at the fledgling in a playfully threatening manner "Don't forget whose room you sleep in at night, little beast. I can wait patiently."

"I'm gonna sleep with Mika tonight!"

"Oh yea, you think you're safe with him, don't you?"

She stuck her tongue out and the others chuckled at their banter. Michael looked between the two of them and felt as though he was going to regret asking.

"What happened?"


	103. Disposal

Aiding the two human hunters was not something that was first on their list of deeds they took to happily, especially not after the lengths their Seraph Guardian was willing to take to get another on their side, and to a fledgling no less. It was ensured that not one of them left her alone in their presence, always just behind her, keeping her under wing, ensuring anyone who dared mean her harm would face their might, and that included the two hunters and their angel that they were there to aid in this battle they faced in the form of a vampires nest.

Her scream of frustration had Nisroc and Titus turning from their hushed conversation, the others turning from their own doings, standing at attention as the seraph tried to tug the fledgling away up his proclamation that she would be the one to lore them out.

Fledgling blood was a staple to come by for the creatures and they would never turn down an opportunity to feast off her.

Puriel and Abraxos, the two nearest the Seraph and the Baby Power, were quick in separating the two of them and guiding the young fledgling back to where the others stood. Weapons drawn, as though waiting for him to try and defy their own order, Akeelah latched onto Nisroc's leg and refused to let go. The Captain set a hand on her head comfortingly, his fingers curled loosely around the hilt of his own sword.

"She stays with me."

"She would be better ser—"

"I don't believe you heard me, I shall repeat for your benefit, she _stays _with _me_."

Castiel eyed them, as though contemplating his chances, but wisely backed down. These were not angels that took 'no' for an answer, and even less so, easily defeated. The Archangels were Heaven's most dangerous weapons. But the Powers were the most efficient. The could hold their own against Michael himself, and not many could claim that, they were not ones he would stand a chance again.

His eyes drifted to the fledgling that hung from the mighty Captains leg, peering out from behind it at him, and he understood just why it was rumored she was the most powerful fledgling in all of Heaven.

She had Heaven's most dangerous and efficient weapons wrapped around her little finger.


	104. Genius

If it ever bothered the older students that the fledgling could mix so well in the classes they had strived to rise to, there were smart enough to never let the foul emotion of jealousy cloud their judgement, word had spread quickly that they were favored by many of powerful stature and it would do no one any good to become enemies of those who stood at her command.

She was often at the front of the class, sitting before the Healer's feet or on the table just over the Messenger's shoulder, or she was spotted at the Choir Master's side or perched upon the Commander's back. Sometimes spotted hanging around the Lieutenants; perched on the Power's shoulders, holding onto the Principalities hand, fingers curled into the Virtue's trouser leg as they walked between the rows, skipping along beside the Grigori as they surveyed them all.

Others had often joked that she was probably the most dangerous fledgling they had in their vast family.

And millennium of watching them from afar made her an apt teaching tool when it came to the classes that each Archangel taught as the younger generation moved forward in their craft training, they never really knew the knowledge she stored in that little braided head of hers from the time she had spent observing the others, she was quite as a mouse when she wanted to be and some never realized she was watching them until she allowed them too.

The youngest of the Virtues in training watched as the fledgling hummed softly to herself, just behind Constantine's left shoulder, sitting on the edge of a medical bed kicking her left leg lightly as she scribbled something on a piece of parchment. She was quite the little artist and she gifted them to those she was in favor with depending on the week.

He clapped his hands together as he concluded his lecture on the healing properties of certain herbs "Now let's see how many of you were paying attention, hmm?" he surveyed the class carefully "Which one of you can tell me all the herbs used in treating burns?" they all exchanged looks and he quirked an eyebrow at them but none made to answer the question, the Virtue hummed in acknowledgement, nodding to them all "Little Akeelah?", the humming stopped and they watched over his shoulder as the little fledgling looked up at the sound of her name "Come here a moment, would you?" she hopped down from the bed she was perched on and came to stand at his side, braids falling over her shoulder as she peered up at him. The mighty Virtue smiled down to the fledgling, honorary among them for bringing the true Healer back to the Infirmary, and lightly touched her nose "Show us what we use to treat burns?" she nodded and stepped forward to the table of assorted herbs all set in special bowls, labeled and prepared for use.

They watched as she surveyed them all, tapping her lower lip with a little finger, pointed at the first one she stopped before and turned to look back at the older angel.

"Aloe?"

She nodded in agreement.

"Very good, what else?"

She picked out three more; Bearburry, Lavender, and Butterbur, turning each time to the Virtue to ensure his agreement and in return he nodded to everyone, resting a hand on her head as she returned to his side silently.

"Very good, little one, and how did you know?"

"Cause I saw you help Zaves when he tried to juggle holy fire."

He smiled at the memory of that particular day; the messenger had been adamant that the Healer is not made aware of his visit and had gone just as quickly as he had come. He hadn't seen him for some time, the Healer had stormed from his office the following afternoon to somewhere he was needed, there was not much that happened in his Infirmary that he didn't know about.

Nisroc knew as soon as he had performed the maneuver for the advanced class, the afternoon was when they tended to the classes directly, that he had lost most of them to the complexity of it and heaved a deep sigh. Behind him the humming of the fledgling reached his ears, and he turned slightly to see her sitting on his cloak leaning against a bench, twisting pieces of grass together as she minded her own. Abraxos and Puriel followed his gaze and exchanged approving glances, nodding in agreement to what he thought of allowing, it was not everyday he allowed the fledgling Power to participate in the teaching of the classes.

"Baby Power, come here for a moment?"

He watched her, the others from over his left side, as she climbed to her feet and kicked the grass from her sandals and hopped to stand at the legendary Power Captain's side. Nisroc curled a hand over the top of her head, smiling down to the fledgling fondly, "Did you see what I just did?"

She nodded at his inquiry, fingers coming up to curl around the belt around his waist, and he smiled again.

"Will you demonstrate what I just taught them?"

The fledgling nodded silently, taking the wooden sword from him when he held it out to her, and he thanked Father that she ignored the disbelieving snorts from the back of the class to which he sent a certain look to the ones who had permitted it to escape them.

They all backed away as the Power fell into his fighting stance, sword grasped loosely in his grip, eyes trained on the little fledgling. Eyes hard, as though in battle, face set into the determination of defeating the opposition. Hardened into the warrior he was; fierce, determined, and fearless.

They watched her just as intently, not believing that a fledgling could hold their own against someone as mighty as the famed Power Captain. Some scoffed when she gripped the wooden hilt with a backwards grip, the blade coming to face her back rather than the front, and she fell into a similar stance to the mighty Power before her.

Abraxos called start, standing to the side, arms crossed loosely in front of him. At his side, Puriel was smiling, a hand curled around his chest, arms crossed over his chest in similar fashion.

The Power knew the fledgling well enough to know that she would not move first, instead staring at him intently with wide hard blue eyes, fingers curled loosely in the same way his were around her own sword's hilt. He moved first, Nisroc spun the sword in his grip, as he was known to do with his own sword in battle and jumped forward fluidly. They waited on bated breath for him to knock the poor fledgling down for daring to think of standing in opposition to him, but she ducked just as fluidly, the wooden sword gliding just over her bowed head, and caught him sharply in the shin with the edge of her own sword, using the advantage of him falling limp at the smarting strike, to climb up from behind. Her feet dug into his sides, wooden sword shoved right up under his chin, little fingers curled around the chin in preparation to pull against the edge of the blade to slice cleanly through the soft skin of his neck.

Puriel was laughing as he called stop to the mock engagement, finding humor in the fact that their Baby member had gotten one up on the Power, Nisroc was known to pull the ferocity of his hits as to not harm the others, but was not known to go easy on them beyond that. If they were gain their win then they were to have earned it.

The class was also amusing to him, those who had snorted in disbelief watched in morbid fascination as the fledgling held the position she had earned herself, those who didn't believe it fair for him to stand against a mere fledgling stared with eyes wide and mouths agape, all in all, it amused him greatly at their astonishment.

Nisroc smiled slightly, despite his position "Very good, Baby Power, lower your weapon." She didn't move though, digging the edge of the sword under his chin a bit more, and Abraxos barked an amused laugh from next to his brother "You know the Baby Power won't let go until you declare her the winner."

The Captain huffed a chuckle and shook his head in his playful uncompromising position in the mock engagement, and instead of giving the declaration of victory to the fledgling, he bent slightly at the waist and reached back to squeeze at her side tightly. The official winner of this engagement shrieked brightly, curling sideways into an awkward position, but dropped her sword from against his neck and released his chin to grab at his wrist instead. He swiftly spun her around, yanking her off his back and around to his front, and returned to his straightened stance. Residual giggles echoed softly from the little thing, as she fell obediently silent again in her new position as he took over the class again.

"How did you know to do that, Baby Power?"

"Cause you do that in fights too and I wanna be a fighter like you too, so I watched."

He smiled in pride at her admission and desire, not commenting on it in front of the class, but would return to it later in the privacy of their Pavilion as they watched the sunset sprawled around their vast open lounging area.

"Now, you all repeat that maneuver until you are sure you can do it in your sleep."

They saluted him as one and spread off, partnering into groups of two, and began to practice what had been demonstrated. Nisroc watched them for a moment, Puriel was still laughing as he and Abraxos stepped up from behind him, stepping away to walk through the class from each side, and the amused Powers clapped him on the shoulders as they passed, before the Captain turned to look down at the fledgling resting back against his chest.

She looked up at him from below, and his arm tightened slightly around her waist, she smiled up at him "I won."

"I will never give you that title as victor."

"It's okay. I know I won. You know I won. And I know you know I won. I'm okay with that."

Nisroc chuckled softly, poking her belly a few times before relenting for the moment, and stepped forward to walk among the class as well.

"Did you have to smack me so hard though?" she giggled softly, fingers curled around his despite the fact he had stopped poking at her adorable pudgy belly, and he smiled again at the sound "I wouldn't have won if I didn't."

"It's not all about winning in mock engagements, you know, it's a learning opportunity."

"It's a chance to win, and I did, your just jealous 'cause you're a loser."

"Do you want me to show them all how I can win against you?"

Akeelah giggled again, shook her head, and leaned up in his arms to kiss the side of his neck, "It doesn't matter that you're a loser 'cause you're always a winner in my book."

"Thank you?"


	105. Love

It was never an intention thing to be allowed to happen, but the words had cut in deep and doubt had been planted, from the seed grew the flower, and then they pulled away from everyone. It didn't go unnoticed of course, being a common sight among them all, to have it so suddenly leave caught all of their attentions.

When Akeelah withdrew, she did so completely, leaving others to watch her silent retreat in worry and confusion.

But the flower of doubt had bloomed into something beautiful and she turned away from them all.

The Morningstar had gone to her former guardian in concern, Jeremiah had tried to think of another time this had occurred but wasn't able to, there was none that came to mind, and the Choir Master left with the same amount of concern he had when he'd first come asking.

Captain and Commander exchanged looks from across the lines, both wondering the same thing, feeling worry fill within at the absence of the fledgling that never missed a Wednesday to help them train the legions. As the day grew on, as did the sea of worry, when she failed to make a single appearance.

The Messenger had turned to his Second, and Zaveriel had shook his head, equal parts upset at her lack of visits and it did nothing to alleviate the Messenger of his sorrow at her absence.

The Healer took in the Infirmary as a whole, the third time in an hour, and frowned when he did not capture a single glance of the troublemaker who had an affinity for stealing his peaches from the garden. He worry grew as the minutes passed and day turned to evening, the sun lowering to the west, and still no sign of her emerged.

It had been the Gardener that drew all of their attention. The soft-spoken caretaker who told them of the ruckus that had been made in his garden the other day. Informed them of the doubts that had been planted into the fledglings mind by those expressing jealousy to the attentions she gained from the older ones. Joshua had not been able to give them names, not having gained them for himself, they had already fled when they heard him approach and the little fledgling had declined his inquiry. He was the only one who could point them in the right direction of the one in question, leading them down a stone path, through thick trees, to a small knoll they had none was there.

"Be mindful." the gardener spoke up softly "What was said really afflicted her."

They nodded in thanks and stepped into the clearing. They were clearly not heard as they approached, the fledgling back still facing them as she sat there, curled around her knees, little face hidden from them.

Messenger and messenger sat to her right.

Commander and Captain before her.

Healer to her left.

And her master knelt in front of her, curling a hand around her small cheek, causing her head to raise. They sat on edge at the tear tracks that glistened on the smooth skin, vowing revenge on any responsible for their being there, and the Morningstar rubbed his thumb through one to wipe it away.

"What happened?"

"Do you love me?" her voice was so small, smaller then they had ever heard it, and it made them all break just a bit on the inside "Or do you just keep me 'round cause you feel bad?"

"Is this a trick question?" The messenger cut in before anyone else could, and they all turned to look at him with surprise, Zaveriel paid them no mind as he stared at his friend "Because I keep you around cause you're my best friend. We get into trouble together and stand up together and do practically everything together. Who brought this on?' as was the question on all their minds.

"I, for one, speak for myself and the Powers." The Captain raised his hand slightly "And I speak for all of us when I say we adore you and that is why we keep you in our ranks. No offense meant sir" he nodded at his Commander who returned the gesture with a knowing nod of his own "But we would go to war for you if asked us to. I agree with Zaveriel, who planted this foul seed into your mind?"

She didn't make any notion to answer the inquiry, but did grant them both a small smile, names would be something they came back to once the flower had been dug from the garden and planted elsewhere.

The oldest of them nodded in time with both of the youngers, "Indeed. I keep you at my side because I cannot imagine you anywhere else. I care for you beyond expression of words. You bring a light with you that fills me with such hope." Beside him the Messenger nodded in time "Nugget, I love you beyond words can describe, I would do anything you asked. Within reason obviously, but anything, just to see you smile. I can't imagine having a flock without you being a part of it."

She smiled at them wetly, rubbing the back of her hands over her eyes to wipe away the wetness, and slowly uncurled from herself at their reassurance.

"I for one, cannot describe the joy you bring with mere words alone." The Healer leaned forward slightly to pass her a small cloth to rub her eyes dry with "I keep you with me because you show me there is still goodness to be found in the smallest of places. You are my companion, my friend, my fledgling."

Her Choir Master rubbed his thumb over her cheek again and she looked back up at him "I keep you with me because I would be lost without you. I adore you in ways I cannot describe in words alone."

She slowly continued to unfold from herself, crawling over the soft grass to hug them all slowly and carefully, "I love you guys too."

"The feeling is indeed returned in favor, little one, now about those names?"


	106. Perfection

She had worked on it for nearly three days, little tongue peeking out of the corner of her mouth, adding the finishing touch to the masterpiece and then set her pencil down and sat back to admire her work. She smiled to herself at the beauty of it and hoped down from the branch she was balanced on, yelling a bright farewell to the Gardener as she ran down the stone path to the exit. The sun had just crossed over to the west after midday rest, so the Axis was full, but she darted skillfully through the masses that milled about to their duties to attend to for the rest of the day.

She stopped at the large grand staircase that lead to her desired destination, and she stared up at it for a moment, before lifting one foot up to the first step and began the trek up them to the top. The Guards nodded at her appearance and stepped aside to grant her entrance, and she skipped in the great open double doors, looking around at all the floating half-finished creations that were being worked on by both Light and Dark.

"And what brings you to Me today, little Akeelah?"

The fledgling stopped before the foot of her Father's throne, looking up at Him for a moment, awed silent at just how _tall _He was, and she was sure that she would be able to see _everything _from His arms because of how _tall _He was.

He chuckled at the little one's silence and reached down to lift her into His lap, waiting patiently for her to come back to herself, and she did in the following moment as she held her drawing up for Him to see.

"Daddy, can I create this?"

"A butterfly?"

She nodded excitedly, turning the picture around to see for herself again, smiling proudly at it "Purple and Blue 'cause they're my favorite colors!"

"I don't know My little one…"

Akeelah widened her eyes and popped her little lip out as she turned to look back up at Him "Pwease Daddy?" and tilted her head to the side to add to the desired effect. He chuckled warmly and brushed a hand down the back of her heard, tugging at the ends of the braids lightly "How can I possibly say no to that? Come, we shall create this masterpiece, a first of many I am sure."


	107. Shaking

"She's freezing!", the Healer swooped the fledgling out of the younger healers arms when the fledgling began shaking, "Her core is going into shock! It's not strong enough yet to regulate such temperatures!", he glanced worriedly up at the other across from them, watching as his head lulled to the side, both paler then they should ever be.

"Strip him! Down to the under clothes! We must get them out of these frozen robes!"

The other healers nodded as they began to tug the heavy soaked robes off the young messenger, as the Healer began to do the same for the fledgling he was tending to himself, quickly undoing the belt cinched around her small waist, pulling her thick top up over her head, boots from her feet and small trousers from her waist, leaving her in thin underclothes.

She fell limply from his hands, hanging as though she were a doll when he picked her back up again, concern keeping him moving. The Virtues were all around them, waiting for orders given to be followed, the Power's behind them. Both having returned with their charges immediately after having been sent to find them when they had not returned after sun fall.

Oren and Nisroc had just touched the snow-covered ground when they saw the messenger hefting the fledgling up onto the thick ice just outside of the weaker surface, splashing freezing water around as he struggled before he fell completely under again. It was a sight that would be remembered for some time, the limp body of the fledgling laying on her back under the pale moonlight, as still as death. The water churned violently under the hole in the ice, and for several moments the messenger did not return, until he exploded upwards. Clawing at the ice weakly, trying with as much might as he could to climb from the subzero water he was stuck in, and slowly but surely, he climbed out and collapsed over the fledgling, protecting her even on the edge of unconsciousness.

"Their internal temperatures are falling quickly, we have to put a stop to it, before it gets too low!", the Healer looked around for a moment, holding the limp fledgling in his arms tightly, loathing to let her go but knowing it needed to be done to help her regain what she was losing fast. His eyes landed on the two Captains; both of whom had the inner core similar to Michael's, that of a burning star, and beckoned them forward with a quick series of nods.

"Nisroc, Oren, come! Hurry! Remove your tops, the both of you, hurry now!"

Both Captains rushed forward, hands quickly undoing the belts cinching their tops in place, yanking the fabric over their heads as instructed, and the Healer had never been more grateful then in this moment. He knew he would not be failed with them, not to say that he would with the others, but he had known them longer then most anyone else. He held the limp fledgling out to the Power and gestured the Virtue to the messenger laying limp on the other bed "Hold them close, pressed flush against you, as much as you can! We must gradually raise their internal temperatures, too fast and we risk causing fever and too slow we risk severe consequences!" they both nodded and took to their assigned tasks with haste.

Oren, with the help of the two healers at the bedside, lifted the healer forward to allow him to slide in behind. He raised his arms to allow them to set him back down and bit a hiss at the mere chill of his back coming in contact with his chest, curling his arms around his thin frame dutifully and pulled him in as close as he could.

Nisroc had a much easier time, holding the limp fledgling up, one hand cradling the back of her head and the other wrapped tightly around her waist he held her as close as he could. Biting back his own discomfort at the frigid touch, he had it easier than the Virtue in that she was so small, her body was so small it nearly fit completely against his upper body.

The Healer motioned for two more Virtues, sending them after basins of _warm _water, and two more Powers for the thick blankets in the back rooms.

"Sit, sit, don't exert yourself so much."

Raphael guided the Power Captain back to the bed he had made up for the fledgling that had been brought to him in this horrid state. He guided him back into the bed, the fledgling shifting between his legs as he leaned back against the pillows, and he curled around her with more ease not that he was not standing.

Abraxos and Raguel returned with the blankets they were sent for, and the Healer took one at a time, curling the first around the fledgling and Power and then the next around the messenger and his own Virtue. Cammael and Constantine returned with the basins of w_arm _water they had been sent for, rags draped over their arms, and the Healer motioned them forward where he wanted to placed.

He drenched a rag first, indicating for Cammael to follow in turn with the other basin, and rung out the excess water as to not cause dripping. Rolling it up, he wrapped it around the back of the fledgling's neck, the Virtue following suit with the messenger. The next he passed to the Power, and next to him to the Virtue Captain, "Rub it against their temples and ears, we have to get them warming as fast as we can, as they do, they will return to us, groggy but aware, the will attempt to fight off the warmth. Ensure that they don't."

Both Captains nodded in turn, turning to do as ordered, watching as color ever so slowly began to return. Raphael sent two Powers off to alert the Choir Master and Messenger now that they were out of immediate danger, shifting between the two of them to check their cheeks and foreheads for temperature, humming at the gradual return of color to their persons.

Little Akeelah was the first to awaken, flinching against the warm rag rubbing along her forehead and ear and cheek, the one behind her neck, and gave a pitiful whine when she tried to flinch weakly away. A large hand curled around her cheek as the rag moved up to her forehead again, a warm soft voice rumbled under her and she whined again "Leave it, little one, leave it be." It cooed softly from above her head, a voice that she recognized, and whined softly again "No..Nis…...Don' _lik'_ it…..."

The thumb of the hand cupped around her cheek rubbed over her cheek bone and she sighed slightly at the comforting feeling "I know you don't, Baby Power, but be brave for me, alright?" he gave a soft smile when she nodded weakly, damp braids rubbing under his chin, and warm little fingers dug lightly into his chest under the blanket like a kitten kneads into another.


	108. Bigotry

"We don't serve to your kind."

Nisroc and Titus looked over at the comment, from examining the linens offered on a cart a few paces away, to see the fledgling that had joined them get pushed to the ground under her. The exchanged looks and turned to stand at her side, but she looked over and shook her head instead, staying them in their tracks, and pulled herself up to dust the dirt off her robe. Akeelah nodded to the cart keeper and turned to return to their side, not speaking a word on the matter and it had them exchanging looks once more.

They left the cart keeper with a look of warning, and he bowed under their authority, but made no comment on the matter that surely needed to be addressed. But at a better time, in private, not in the openness of the Axis Mundi. Akeelah looked ahead, peering at the carts and stalls as they passed, from the safety of standing between two Power's.

The three of them stopped at another stall, looking over the leather belts presented, Nisroc needed a new one and Ereal knew how to weave them better than anyone. The stall keeper smiled in greeting to the two Power's, she had crafted many of their leather works, and turned a disgusted gaze to the fledgling standing between them.

"We don't serve to your kind here, best be on your way, cowardess."

The two Powers shot their heads up, staring wide eyed at the angel before them, Akeelah nodded turning to step off. Not too far, she had promised to stay with her two older friends for the entirety of the trip and sat on a large tone lining the street waiting for the Powers to finish their perusal.

Nisroc was loath to take something from another who would treat his dear little friend so dishonorably, but he need require a new belt, and selected the one he had been looking over before such horrid words were spoken. Ereal smiled in thanks, a gesture he did not return much to her confusion and took the wrapped item silently.

Their little friend had waited patiently, back to the stall, throwing little pebbles at the feet of the passersby. He touched her head lightly, nodding when she looked up at him, and the two Powers lead them on once more.

"Do you need anything, Baby Power?"

Akeelah nodded silently and kicked her little foot, "You need new footwear?" and she nodded again. Titus indicated a cart just a way off, and they journeyed over, excusing themselves as the cut through the crowd milling about in search of the items they needed replaced.

The cart owned, a portly grizzled angel, glared at the fledgling but nodded respectfully to the two Powers, "Welcome gents, you may peruse my inventory, but we don't give to her _kind _here."

Enough was enough, "What does that mean?", the fledgling pulled on his hand, shaking her little head frantically, "No Nis! It doesn't matter! Let's just go!" he squeezed her hand in return, not allowing her to turn away this time, and Titus came to stand behind her in the case that she managed to worm her hand out of his and try to make her escape. Amon looked surprised that someone had rebuffed, questioned the unspoken rule along the Axis stalls, and a Power none the less.

"We only serve to honorable ones, sir, we do not cater to cowards."

Nisroc hummed in acknowledgement, tilted his head slightly, and pulled the fledgling around to stand in front of him. She tried to step back, but only managed to get as far as he was, pressing into his legs.

"And what did you do during the raging war, Amon?"

"We hid, sir, to avoid being taken to the mindbreaker."

The Captain hummed again, nodding his head "Then tell me how that is any different then what she had done?" he could feel her moving against his legs, as she turned to look up at him, but he was focused on the angel before them "If hiding to preserve ones safety is cowardly, dishonorable, then what does that make you for doing the same. You should be shamed, self-preservation is not dishonorable, and for a fledgling to have to handle such decisions even more so, but what is dishonorable is degrading one so young for doing the same as you." Amon was pale, thoroughly chewed to the bone, and lowed his head in shame. The Powers' nodded together, and Titus stepped to his Captain's side "We only need new sandals for the little one and then we will be out of your way. The keeper nodded, stepping aside, gesturing them forward to try on for the right size.

They walked back the way they came in silence, heading in the direction of their Pavilion, the little fledgling walking silently between them. Withdrawn, as if she were believing the words spoken so cruelly about her own flock of choir angels, and he squeezed her fingers lightly to draw her attention.

"Do not listen to them, Baby Power you are in so many ways an honorable angel."

"But they're right Nis we are cowards."

"This happens often?"

She nodded, and yelped softly as she was scooped up, Titus settling the fledgling on his hip midstride, turning her head towards him with a finger under her chin "Listen to me, Baby Power, taking ones safety in their own hands is not dishonorable. You are the furthest thing. You don't look at us and see the Warriors that struck others down where they stood, do you?"

"No, but—"

"You don't judge people on their actions, do you?"

"No, but, Titus—"

"You do not cower around the Archs for what they have done in the past, do you?"

"NO, Titus the—"

"Then you are not dishonorable. And there are countless others who would stand by that statement. Don't think so lowly of yourself."

"And for Fathers sake." Nisroc finally cut in as they stepped up to the training field, walking for the others resting on the benches after their own sparing matches "Don't look so withdrawn, it does not suit you, it's wrong to have you so quiet."

"Why's the Baby Power being too quiet?" Haniel questioned as they drew nearer, drawing the attention of the others, all looking inquisitively at the three of them "Did something happen?"

"That hasn't already been taken care of. Do you think you could aid in convincing our stubborn Baby Power that she is not a dishonorable angel?"

The others looked confused, but nodded all the same, and Haniel grinned in confusion "I feel as though we missed something, but we wouldn't turn down an opportunity to do some convincing to this sly little thing."


	109. Booklet

"Luci, I don't like this one."

He looked from his desk, coming face first to a small hymn book being held up to him from below, he moved the little hand aside and met the gaze of the fledgling that expressed her opinion on things too openly.

The Archangel frowned, and tilted his head slightly "What's wrong with it?"

"It's just bad."

"_I_ wrote it."

"_You_ wrote it bad."

Lucifer narrowed his eyes at the fledgling, but she kept on staring up at him, and leaned forward to place the book on his desk before turning to look back up at him.

"I wrote them for you."

"I won't sing anyone of those."

"You will if I tell you to."

Akeelah didn't change her expression in the slightest, but he knew she had taken his statement as a challenge to her will, and thus would be obstinate about it now.

"You can try I guess, it's good to have dreams, just don't be sad when it doesn't work out."

He buried a few fingers into her side and the fledgling shrieked, curling in slightly, giggling madly when he gave the sensitive spot in his grasp a rather well-meant squeeze. "Oh, this is not a challenge you will win, little one. I won't stop until I get your agreement to sing what's in those books and I have all afternoon." The Morningstar halted his attack for a moment, peering down into the bright eyes that stared up at him, the erratic breathing of the breathless fledgling rocking against his chest. "Perhaps we shall take this somewhere I can have better access to that belly of yours, I haven't given it a good nibble in a while, have I?"

The fledgling shook her head frantically, giggles of anticipation falling as she tried to pry his arms from around her small frame, but she was no match for his strength and stood them both up from his desk and turned in the direction of their bed.

It hadn't been just his since that first night, it had become theirs within the day, as it had been made obvious that she would sleep nowhere else.

Oh, he'd let her help him make new songs if she truly didn't like the ones, he'd written for them, but now was his chance to have some fun too. All work and no play can leads to a very unhappy archangel.

He cradled the back of her head protectively, to keep her neck stable, as he dropped them both forward on his bed. She giggled brightly, pushing against him, as he reached down to pull her little top free.

"Luci noooo!"

"Luci _yeesssssss_!"

Quickly enough the quivering belly surface was revealed to the room completely, and he rested his chin on the back of his hands as he looked across to her instead, letting the belly quiver with giggles as they locked gazes.

"Now what should I do to this cute little belly I have all to myself?"

Akeelah giggled brightly, her eyes twinkling like the stars in a dark summer's night, "Nohohothin!"

He wiggled a few fingers into the warm shaking surface, and she giggled harder, little fingers curling around his fingers in an attempt to stop him. It didn't work of course but he gave the little thing kudos for trying.

"Lucihihi! Staaawp!" her little fingers curled around his tightly, but he still managed to wiggle his into her belly "TIhihickles!"

"I know it does, my adorably stubborn little munchkin. I don't think _'Nothin' _was on the menu today. I'm sorry. I've been busy lately and neglected my duty as your guardian (officially of course but one of four unofficially), I need to spend some time with my little friend here."

"Nohoho you dohohon'!"

"I know what I'm gonna do first."

The fledgling squealed brightly, little fingers moving to curl up in his hair instead, as he pressed his face to the shaking belly, arching her back slightly when he blew long and hard into her belly button, once, and then twice, three times.

They carried on for a short while; blowing a few raspberries here, nibbling a bit there, wiggling fingers in this one spot, pressing some kisses to the other. Until the stubborn little thing was broken from her stance in the unspoken challenger and promised to do anything just _'No more munchies Luci! NOhohoho!' _and he finally pulled away, letting her tug her top back down protectively, as though it would stop him from getting to her belly, which he happily disproved when he buried his face back in and blew right through the soft fabric another great raspberry into her tummy until she was in stitches and little tears sparkled like diamonds in her bright eyes.

"Oh, calm down you, I've stopped.", he pat her belly with the palm of his right hand, and she curled up, giggling madly at it "For now anyway. Just wait until Michael gets back. I know he's missed his little friend too." He turned over on his back and little Akeelah climbed up to drape herself over his chest tiredly, worn out from all the excitement, and he rubbed a hand over the back of her head soothingly "Help me write new songs, then?"

Akeelah nodded and he lifted them slightly to fetch his book.

**_AN: I imagine Akeelah being a bright song writer and bringing something a bit more modern to the Heavenly Choir. I picked the two songs she'd go with as 'Just Imagine It' by MKTO and 'Jump' By Cynthia Erivo, I say go listen to them when you can, they really fit her personality well. _**

**_Links included below:_**

**_'_****_Just Imagine It' –MKTO_**

**_ watch?v=DM3VYc-ot-o_**

**_'Jump' -Cynthia Erivo_**

**_ watch?v=yqwjQvcY2J4_**


	110. Emergency

They glared at each other with heated eyes, neither one making to move first, and not a word spoken between them.

"This isn't the first choice on my list either."

"At least we agree on that."

He glared at the fledgling, and she glared right back, both an equal match for the other. This was not a team up that they would normally do had the circumstances not called for it. With all four Archangel off assisting Father with something in a distant universe, it made for an opportune moment to those wishing to set siege on Heaven's borders, and those slimy bastards in the underworld were nothing if not opportunistic beasts. They had come at nightfall as everyone was turning in for the night, no one was prepared for the sudden attack, not the Principalities nor the Powers.

The only one in the training barracks who managed to get away was young Paul, who was well adept in disappearing into shadows around him, and he missed to concerned looked sent to where he had been standing just moments earlier that now sat vacant. There was only one he knew, who was just as agile and fluid as he was, just as young as he had been when he'd started, and he made his way through the garden to the inner circle hidden within the trees.

Akeelah had been frightened out of the Morningstars bed, darted across the hall to Michael's room and snagged the daggers he let her use from his belt, and ran for the sanctum of the garden.

Her and Paul glared at one another with the fire of a thousand suns.

"But they need our help." He looked pained as he continued on "We need to be a team for this one."

She looked sick just thinking about it, even went so far as to mimic vomiting at the thought of the suggestion, which only served to annoy him more. They had no intention of being friends, ever, but often enough played nice for the Power Captain that they shared between them.

"Fine. But this doesn't mean were friends."

"Obviously. I can't stand you."

"The sight of you makes me want to vomit."

He held his hand out to her and she eyed it warily for a moment before reaching out her own, their fingers curled, and they shook their temporary truce into place. Lasting only as long as it needed and then going back to the way it was before it was necessary.

They came together, kneeling before the patch of dry dirt, and he drew up a plan of attack, normally she would have fought him on it but given the situation she knew his plans would be better suited seeing as he was actually in training whereas she just observed.

Step one in their plan was the free the Powers.

After some stealthy scoping they found the elite force being held on the steps of the Throne Room, backs turned to their capturers and hands bound behind their backs, they kneeled on the first step. They observed the ones guarding them, didn't notice anything too special, newer made demons were often give such roles as it wasn't hard to keep captives in place.

Akeelah crept along the outer edge of the Aerie, up behind the guarding demons keeping the Powers in place from afar, should the ones standing guard before them fail at their one job. Only two, one big and the other small, Paul was on the other side waiting to jump on the bigger one. She met his eyes from above and they shared a nod, jumping from their perches, she landed on the demons shoulders and he faltered at the sudden appearance of an angel, and jammed her dagger into its skull before he could call for help, Paul made just as quick work next to her with the big one, and soon two bodies fell to the floor unmoving.

The Powers dared not move, not with the threat hanging over the heads of the others, not all angels in Heaven were warriors and thus relied on those who were for their safety.

They heard a shout of surprise from behind and exchanged quick looks, the sound of boots running farther away echoing softly until they disappeared completely. Nisroc started at the sudden appearance of a fledgling before him, not there one moment and then appearing the next, the others looked over in equal amounts shock, Akeelah crouched before the Captain and smiled "I'm the winner this time too." Crawling softly around him to undo his hands. She followed suit with the others and they stood, stretching out sore legs, and gathered their weapons where they had been stacked when they'd been captured.

He knelt slightly, grimacing at the ache of protest from his knee "What are you doing here, Baby Power?"

"Saving you, duh."

"You should be hiding."

"Then who would've saved you?"

Titus squeezed his shoulder from behind, "As much as I hate to say it, but, the fledgling does have a point."

Haniel gave her a confused look "How did you get passed the guards? From what I could tell there was two sets."

She shrugged as though it was no big deal "We went after the ones in the Aerie first, and then these ones, no biggie." And waved his confusion off for the moment, "We?"

"Me and Paul. He took them over there.", she pointed into the darkness and they squinted in their attempt to see, and turned back at their failure "But he'll be back."

Nisroc nodded, gripping the hilt of his sword loosely, as he always did in battle, "Stay at our side, alright?"

"Got it!"

They stalked forward, meeting Paul across the way, and carried on. They fought with hard determination and amazing strength, focused completely on the task at hand, but watched the two temporary allies fight side by side. Paul went high while Akeelah went low, working together in a way that one would think impossible, from the way they didn't get along in any normal circumstance. The Principalities were freed next, and together with the Powers they managed to free the Virtues.

The battle lasted well into the morning, the sun rising around them, and only turned in their favor as the sun crested in the East and slowly but surely they managed to force the demons back through the gates and into the pit.

They all returned to see the two of them glaring at each other, one staring at their hand in horror, and the other wiping it vigorously on their robe as if trying to wipe something off.

"You _touched _me!"

"Get it off!"

They rolled their eyes at the pair of them.


	111. Idiot

"You're an idiot."

Zaveriel grinned despite himself as the healer bound his burned arm in a damp wrap, medicated in a mixture of herbs to keep infection from setting in, but didn't spare his master a look just yet. Of course, someone would have notified him as soon as he arrived in the Infirmary, given the stupidity that brought him here, he was surprised no one had told the Healer in the Garden where he was picking herbs with the lower-class students.

Getting caught trying to juggle holy fire was not how he had intended to spend his afternoon, and it was the times he _did _get caught that he hated, Gabriel got all mad and stern and it ruined the mood of his accomplishment.

"In my defense, how little that may be, I didn't think it would scorch my arm."

The Archangel raised an incredulous eye at the young messenger "It's holy _fire_ what it the great holy name of Daddy-o did you think it would do?"

"I don't know, I mean I play with it all the time, and it never usually turns out like this."

"You _what_?"

The young messenger's eyes widened as he realized the hole, he had just dug for himself, turning to look at the older angel with wide horrified eyes, _'I did not just say that aloud.'_

"Yes, you did."

_'__Shit, I said that aloud too!'_

"You're not thinking to yourself, stop digging yourself a grave here, explain to me what you mean by that."

He eyed his surroundings from under his bangs, as though looking for a way out, he was swift, and his master was not as young as he used to be and—

"You're grounded." The Messenger turned on his heel and walked away, rubbing a few fingers to his temple in hopes of staying the oncoming headache. "It's like we're raising _two _fledglings."

"Hey! You _need _me!"

"_Grounded._"


	112. Loan

"I expect to get these back when we are done here.", the Archangel pulled the two daggers just out of the reach of the little hands, bright blue eyes stared up at him, and he received a nod in return to his order before he handed them over. Akeelah smiled at the daggers, gripping them like Nisroc gripped his sword and he himself gripped his own daggers when he used them. I was no secret among the Warriors that he intended to gift those particular daggers to the fledgling when she was old enough to choose her flock under one of the four Archangels, but until then he kept them for safe keeping.

Sam Winchester frowned and looked as though he wanted to attempt to tell him how it was best to raise a fledgling, which was in his favor that he kept it to himself rather then make it known to the world, though it would surely be for the best interest (in the hunters own opinion) it would be an insult to the Archangel who had been around since long before the dawn of man and who had raised countless fledglings starting with the second archangel in existence.

He was well aware in the best interests of raising a little one.

The Prince stood from where he knelt, standing back to his full height, coming to stand at least a head and a half taller then even the tall hunter himself. He made a quick hand gesture and the fledgling curled her fingers into the leg of his pants.

Behind the hunter was the other, and their angel of course, Nisroc had told him of the seraphs attempt to use the fledgling as bait to pull a nest of vampires out from their den, thus when they were called on once more for their aid the Sword of Heaven himself came down instead with the little fledging in tow.

The hunters could not see it, but the seraph surely could, the large wing that curled protectively around the fledglings shoulder. As if he were claiming her as his, a part of their flock, and anyone who dared stand against her stood against him; and that was no position anyone wanted to be in.

"We are ready for this battle and follow your lead."

Sam nodded silently, looking over his shoulder to the other two behind him, Castiel stood straight, a soldier prepared for battle always. His eyes locked with the archangels, Michael jerked his chin upwards in a sign of superiority, and the seraph bowed, though a bit begrudgingly, to the power that came with the oldest Archangel.

Akeelah only aided them, as she did, on the grant of the Archangels good grace and anyone to take advantage of their kindness would feel the wrath of Heaven's most dangerous weapons.


	113. Pattern

They had started noticing it nearly a month into the making, it was known between them all that out of the four of them that the Messenger was the one who was the softest. If there was ever one to sneak pieces from the dinner table under for the dog sitting there waiting patiently it would be the Messenger.

So when the fledgling came to any other one of them for something, and the request was denied, she would in turn go to the Messenger who would always allow whatever she was asking. Within reason of course, he agreed with the no weapons rule and the somewhat bedtime rule too, but other then that he was all for experimentation and adventure.

"Gabriel, you're spoiling her."

The Messenger denied such an allegation, all four of them mindful of their volume as to not disturb the soundly sleeping fledgling just down the hall in the Morningstar's' room, and jumped to his own defense.

"I am _not_!"

"Oh, yes you are.", the Healer sipped at his steaming mug "And you know it."

He smirked at his older brothers "You're all just upset that it leads to her and Zaves getting you all, they're just smart enough to leave me alone."

Michael pointed a threatening finger at him "Do not think you're too old for us to give you the same treatment we give them for their tricks, _baby brother_."


	114. Jealous

"I don't get why he has to come."

Akeelah grumbled, crossing her little arms over her chest, the archangel heaved a sigh and rubbed a hand down his face. He had told her more the once why he was allowing the youngling to come with them and join their day in the garden.

"I've told you this, little one, more than once in fact."

"I know! But he's gonna ruin it!"

"You've got to learn to share."

"I know how to share!", she glared up at him with as much might as she could manage, despite her desired affect it only served to amuse him, and Michael chuckled, "I share all the time! Just not with meanies!"

"Oh, really now?" he turned to look down at her, packing a few fruits into a small net sack for their afternoon spent at the sparking lake in the garden "So Nisroc must be lying to me when he tells me of how you truly get along with him on resting days?"

"Well, now that you know."

Michael chuckled and knelt, tucking the rucksack over his shoulder as he did, and pat her cheek lightly "I shall look into it immediately, I am under the impression that if you weren't so stubborn, the two of you could become good friends."

"I don't want him to come with us, Micha."

"I know, you've told me many _many _times, but he still is."

She huffed and turned away, only serving to get more upset when the archangel only chuckled and stood, guiding her out of their villa and down to the gate. The Captain waited for them there, thumbs tucked into the folds of his trousers, the young cadet standing patiently by his side.

He eyed the furious little fledgling amusedly "I am surprised she is still coming with knowing that Paul will be joining us this afternoon." The archangel nodded "She must learn to share." They watched the fledgling glare at the other for a moment before guiding their own young charges in the direction of the garden. They had joined the youngling in the shallows, but their fledgling companion had refused, choosing to sit next to their resting place and glare at him, though it was to be desired they had to hand her credit for her willpower.

Michael bid them his pause with a raised hand, trudging his way from his place waist deep in the sparkling lake, to kneel before the stubborn little thing so close to his heart.

"Are you sure you do not want to join us?"

She shook her head angrily "I wanna play with you, not _him_."

"Well, those are your choices, you can play with us all, or remain here alone with your stubbornness."

Akeelah turned away from him, clearly still unhappy that he had invited the other to join in on their day together, he knew that she did not mind Nisroc's being there but detested that the youngling had joined them.

Day turned to dusk, and soon they were leaving each other's sides for the evening, Nisroc returning to the Pavilion with the young cadet and the Archangel to guide his young fledgling back to the villa. The sun was quickly setting, and it was time to get ready for bed, night was fast approaching, and she had to be to bed by a certain hour lest they all wake up to a grumpy fledgling the next morning.

"But Micha, I'm not tired!"

She grasped tightly at his robes, hanging from the front of them, and he sighed deeply. He knew this would happen after the anger had worn off and she realized she had wasted the entire day away stubbornly refusing to join in on their fun.

Michael stroked a hand over the back of her head, "I know you aren't little one, but it is coming close to bedtime, and you must be ready and tucked in for it."

"But I didn't get to do _nothin _today!"

"By your own choice, we offered a number of times, perhaps this will serve as a lesson in the future."

"Why you gotta be so mean! First you invited _Paul_! And now you're makin' me go to sleep without doing _nothin_!"

He scooped her up, holding her close to his chest, and kissed her on the nose.

"I'm not being mean to you, little one, despite what you think. I am merely trying to get you to share with others, _including _young Paul, you can't continue to be so stubborn."

"But I didn' get to do _nothin_, Micha! _Nothin!_"

"And I am sure you will be willing to share next time with this as your lesson.", he bounced her lightly and turned for his own room down the hall "But you'll sleep with me this night so that we may spend time together between just us."

"And you'll read to me?"

"Two stories, as we do every night, and we shall curl together as you like to do."

Akeelah settled down, laying her head on his shoulder, she hated to acknowledge that he was right, but she would just share next time.


	115. Nightmare

"Micha?", he woke to the soft shaking of his left shoulder, and turned over in bed, to meet the gaze of frightened young eyes standing next to the side of his bed and immediately felt a sense of protectiveness surge through him. With her master down dealing with things in the underworld, to which he would never have willingly taken the fledgling down with him, he was the next best thing to him when it came to the fledgling waking in the middle of the night from fright. "Micha, can I please sleep with you?"

He nodded immediately, lifting the corner of his duvet up for the little fledgling to climb up under, she quickly did just that, curling in close to his side, and the oldest archangel slowly lowered the blanket back down and curled an arm around the little form in order to pull her up to his chest.

"Did you have another bad dream?"

She nodded against his chest, fingers curling against his bare chest, like a kitten did when they felt comfortable and safe. He rubbed the back of her head softly and hummed, "Do you want to talk about it?" he felt her shake her head this time and sighed softly, scratching at her scalp between the woven braids, "Talking about it helps, though."

"You were all gone, and I was alone, and someone was taking me somewhere and no one would help me."

He hummed again, pressing his lips to her warm little temple, "You know we would never leave you alone, right?", she nodded softly, "But what if you did. What if you all left?"

"As unlikely as it is that all four of us would meet our end, you would go to Nisroc, it has already been discussed.", he pulled her closer "We would never leave you alone, whether we were here or not, you will never be alone again."

She looked up at him with drooping eyes "You did?"

"Of course, if for some reason we were unable to be here, Nisroc would take you. We would never leave you with the possibility of being on your own. Nisroc agreed and Father gave His blessing on the matter."

Akeelah smiled, reassured, and laid her head back down on his chest "I love you, Micha."

"And, I love you, little warrior."


	116. Sacrifice

He stared forlornly at the bald patches in his wings, finally having been given permission to move from the bed he'd been laid in up on their return from Hell, Akeelah had finally just left his side at the begging from her master and his soft encouragement to go ahead.

"They will grow back, in time." A warm hand rubbed over the top of his wing and he started around at the touch, but calmed, the touch was gentle and he knew that voice "But I promise they will grow back." The Healer stood just behind him, warm hands massaging at his shoulders lightly, and he curled his wings back where he kept them when they weren't being used. "You refused my brother entry again. He worries that you are angry at him."

"I'm not I ju—"

The archangel held up a hand to silence him, "I know.", he pat his shoulder lightly and stepped around the bed to sit at his side, "You've always been afraid of disappointing us. Oh, I remember you as a tiny little fledgling, so frightened to tell me that you wanted to be a messenger instead of a healer that you avoided me for nearly a week. Do not think I've forgotten how you had jumped out of my office window your grand attempts.", despite himself, Zaveriel cracked a smile, and a dark finger touched it lightly, "There is that smile, you look better with it, then without." The young messenger smiled again, looking down to his lap, and his older companion waited on him patently.

"I'm sorry I couldn't have done more."

"And you shouldn't be."

He closed his eyes tightly at the familiar voice, the one that had talked the bad dreams away, always hummed to him when he came in the dark hours of the night, it was warmth and safety.

"I will still comfort you, Little Zavi, all you need do is let me."

The messenger tried, he tried to pull his tears back as they escaped, tried to refortify his crumbling walls as they fell, but didn't quite reach his goals when he turned and fell into the Healer's arms. They wrapped around him entirely, pulling him close despite his injuries, and he sobbed raggedly into his chest. The older angel didn't speak, he knew he hadn't needed to, he just held him close. Tucking his head under his chin. Pressing a hand to the back of his head. Humming listlessly over it. Giving comfort from mere presence then empty words.

Zaveriel gripped tightly at the front of his robes, his thin shoulders heaving, much in the similar way they had when he'd finally be caught and taken to the Healers office all those decades and decades ago, when he'd finally confessed his desire to be what he was best at. Raphael had lost many young flocks to his brother, and Gabriel to him, Lucifer to Michael, and Michael to him. All four of them had. It was not something that was frowned upon, it was celebrated, but the distress of it had run the young fledgling into several walls. Terrified that he would shun him out if he knew his desires.

He sobbed until he couldn't sob anymore, turning slightly to breath in shakily instead, pressing his ear to the Healer's chest.

"What if he doesn't think I'm fit enough anymore."

"You're not, not now, but you will be given time to heal."

The young messenger turned to look up at him, eyes meeting those of his former master, "But what if even then?"

"Despite the fact that he would never and how much he adores you? Even after all of that? He would answer to me.


	117. Memory

"Everyone hit the ground!" was the shout of surprise as a wave of power echoed across the sky, an angel had lost their temper and their grace exploded in a show of mighty power, around them warriors dropped into the dirt as soon as the order was given. It rolled around them, brushing over backs, and rustling through hair, barely touching anyone enough to be absorbed.

And then reality changed.

It had met someone.

The exploding grace of Zachriel met someone.

Drums beating the air echoed around them, and they all stood in various glances of confusion, Nisroc helped his Commander to his feet, both exchanging a quick glance as the familiarity of the tune echoed in their ears. The warriors all ran from the training field, at the sound of the echoing drums, to the Axis to get a better look at the commotion there was to behold.

Zachriel stood in the middle of the stone road, cradling something in his arms, staring in horror at what he had done in the middle of a place filled with so many angels. They couldn't make out what he was holding, despite their effort, and they were joined by a mix of messengers and healers and choir angels, various outside of the four main castes. _In the middle of the road, marching down with the Heavenly guard, was the Morningstar in grand precession. _

_Celestial silver chains glinted an echo in the sun, and they stared as the Second in all of Heaven was marched down the street_, as he had been all those eons ago. Turning slightly, Michael could see the younger two Archangels pushing their way to their brothers side, Lucifer watching the proceeding with wide horrified eyes, as though he were reliving it where he stood.

Nisroc swallowed hard when they followed, _the Power's corralling the Choirs together in one massive group, as they walked down the procession_. They managed to spot one thing that stood out, one little thing that would have remembered this, there, _clutching at the echo of Jeremiah's leg, was little Akeelah, looking around in fear_.

The Procession slowly faded, filling into another echo of another memory_, illuminated raindrops fell through them as the rain poured all around, and they watched three disgraced Powers drag a tiny body out from behind a pile of debris. Little fingers scrabbling at the broken road under them, struggling for all they were worth, until they were forced to stand_. Bright blue eyes cut through the crowd as they were finally able to see who it was being laid witness to.

An echo of Theo snapped something, to which they could not hear, and the other two forced the tiny fledgling around. _A large hand closed around the back of her top and tore it as they pulled it down to reveal her smooth back to the pale moonlight above, she struggled against her capturers, tugging at her arms as best as her might would allow, and then he raised the whip. _A collective gasp rang through the crowd as it bite sharply into the fledglings back, tearing a line across smooth shoulders, _and as the little form arched forward at the impact, a silent scream echoing around them. _

The whip was raised again and again, every time brought back with more and more force, until there was nothing left but blood and lashes across the fledglings back and she hung limply from their hands.

_The fledgling was dropped where she stood and fell forward into a large puddle of rain water and mud, falling limp to merely lay there. Theo laughed, cajoled with the other two, and paid no mind to the fledgling he had just flogged so harshly. Some time passed, little fingers kneading in the filthy water, lightning crashing over illuminated the extent of the injury's received _Raphael covered his mouth at the sight of it, turning to look for the sought after fledgling, before realization hit him first and he turned with horror to the thing that Zachriel held so close _and the shadow of a figure skirted around the edge of another pillar, the young messenger appeared then, lowering himself into the puddle beside her, pulling his cloak off to drape over her shredded back, as they sat there silently in the middle of a storm. _

The echo faded and they all turned to see another begin again, the same fledgling from before, and another, running away from two older angels chasing after them. _Blood was dripping from her temple, and the boy's next to her, their hands clasped together tightly, _and Nisroc started when he caught sight of the boy's face, and in turn looked over to his left where the same boy, albeit older, stood looking rather pale. He held a handout for him, and young Paul's fingers curled around his, squeezing as the echo of him and the fledgling ran to stand in front of them. _Akeelah and Paul looked over to their left side where they were being chase, and ran forward, up the stone steps into the debris of the training field, under the noses of the Powers as they trained one another harshly at the center of the debris covered field. The two of them ran across the field, ducking down under boulder and broken walls to avoid being spotted from behind or to the side, and then young Paul fell. His leg twisted in an awkward position, clearly having been broken previously, and little Akeelah stumbled forward at the sudden stop. The muted racket drew the attention of their pursuers, and the attention of the gathered Powers, and young Paul pushed her away, silently screaming an order at her, to which she shook her head and reached back for his hand, he shouted something offending, and she jumped back as though struck, tears building in her eyes, and she turned and ran as they all converged on the boy._

As the echo faded, Nisroc knelt down slightly, "What did you say?", Paul looked up at him with stricken eyes, tears forming in the corners, as though he remembered the day as if it were just yesterday.

"That I hated cowards."

Another began to form, but it was waved away by His sharp hand, **"That is enough."**

Zachriel was panicking as He stepped up before Him, shaking in his place, eyes blown wide "I didn't know! I swear I didn't know!"

"Don't you all have duties to be returning to?" was the only reply he got, and a slight understanding nod, as He lifted the unconscious fledgling from his arms. The others dispersed at the order from their Father, all except for a certain few. The Archangels converged on their Father in attendance of their fledgling, Zaveriel ghosted behind His right shoulder as though waiting to jump to his friend defense, and Nisroc and young Paul stepped up to His left.

Relinquishing His hold on the fledgling in favor for lowering her into Michael's arms, mindful of her limp, unconscious form, He turned to address His young son.

"Give her time, My son, she will return to your side once more."

The statement left them all with more questions then it did answers, and when they turned to Paul, the youngling merely nodded at Him and gave them all stares in return.


	118. Past

It was long and it was complicated, the history they shared, it was dark and twisting and tied them together more then it split them apart. The fledgling had been adamant about her disdain for the youngling, making it known to anyone who knew her, Akeelah was no friend. She knew of his passed, of mistakes he lived with everyday, the things that haunted his mind. She knew most of it all.

And others started to catch on, those in his class, becoming suspicious and jealous that this runt of a trainee got to retire at the end of the night to the Pavilion while the rest of them had to go to the barracks where the rest of the trainees stayed. When the instructors back was turned or otherwise distracted, they too made their displeasures known. Smacking him in the shins with their wooden swords or over the head when they turned. The youngling just took it all, biting his tongue and turning the other cheek, as he had been told. Most were kind enough while others weren't and it was just the way it was, there was one that at least liked him and that was more then some got themselves.

But that didn't mean there weren't times where he very nearly met the end of his rope, especially on those days where they were being particularly rough or particularly hard with their throws, that he didn't just want to turn around and throw it back just as good as he gained. But he was still on thin ice, despite having helped Nisroc come to an understanding on the matter at hand, he was still walking lightly due to past behaviors. He wasn't supposed to lash back, just turn the other cheek, and if it became worse then he was to report it immediately. But reporting it would make it worse because then they'd get mad at him even more and they'd come after him harder because he would have gotten them in trouble with Nisroc and no one wanted to be in trouble with Nisroc.

He was about to throw it all into the wind, as he was hit particularly hard between the shoulders and lost his footing to find himself sprawled in the rough dirt. Paul turned in time to see the wooden sword raise high over Ezariels head, preparing for the blow of all blows, when another sword swung out of no where. It came from over his head, casting a quick shadow, and smacked harshly into the other's face, there was a crunch and a yell of pain as he fell backwards. The commotion gained the attention of the rest of the class, their instructor calling out for them all to stand aside, and undoubtedly the attention of the Captain and Commander from across the field. But Paul only had eyes for his rescuer, staring in awed surprise, at the short frame of his number one enemy, the fledgling who announced her disliking of him openly without prompting. She stood there, breathing deeply, little shoulders heaving, and had swung the wooden sword above his head with such ferocity it had broken Ezariel's nose om impact. Akeelah was glaring down at the other boy with more venom then had ever been seen, eyes sharp and bright with burning anger, fingers curled tightly around the wrapped hilt of the wooden practice sword as she prepared to swing it again.

Paul stared at her. Ezariel stared at her. And Titus, who had just broken through the crowd of younglings, stared at her.

But Akeelah only continued to glare at Ezariel.

"Do it again!", her voice floated over the stunned silence, "I _dare_ you to!" she waited until her opponent shook his head, clutching at his bleeding nose, and then she turned to the other. Paul stared at the hand that was held out for him to take, he stared for a moment and she huffed impatiently, before taking it for the aid of getting back to his feet. She stood just under his shoulder, but felt pride bubbling in his belly at the knowledge that someone had seen, someone had _cared _enough to see (and that wasn't to say that Nisroc probably hadn't but he wasn't one to get involved until it was asked of him) and stop it from happening again. Akeelah bent and reached for his own sword, and he took it without word, everyone just staring at them and it was starting to become quite unsettling.

"I don't like you.", she looked up at him with her bright blue eyes "But I don't like _him _more."

"I don't like you _either_." Paul shook his head in return, curling his fingers around the hilt of his own sword "Don't like _him_ too."

"Good. Wanna be friends?"

"Sure. We can be friends."

And they shook on it just as Michael and Nisroc managed to get through the gathered classes.


	119. Weak

"Hey!" Akeelah felt a sense of relief at the voice that floated over her head, staring up at the two upperclassmen smugly, when hands appeared above her and shoved the larger angel backwards. "Get away from her!"

"Hi dweeb."

"Hey idiot."

Paul held a hand out for her to take, and she did willingly, letting him help her to her feet. She smiled at him and turned to stand at his side instead. The larger of the two doofuses snorted at the warrior in training. "Why are you helping _it_?" and his even dumber friend nodded, "Why stand up for a weak little fledgling when they're so much easier to order around."

The youngling smiled at them, turning to his friend instead, Akeelah looked up at him imploringly as though asking for permission and the two before them shuffled slightly at the appearance, especially so when the boy nodded.

"Better hurry before Nisroc catches up to us."

Meeting in the Garden, Akeelah was going to show them all where the best peaches were but had to wait until training had ended for the day. She had been waiting her quietly on her own, minding to herself, when these two had shown up. Paul had run ahead of his Captain to meet her first and came upon the three of them by accident.

Akeelah nodded in acknowledgement, smiling darkly, and turned to them with glowing eyes.

Nisroc joined them a few minutes later, carrying an extra blanket over one shoulder, and some skins of water in one hand with confusion etched on his features. Humming to himself at the two of them and their a bit too innocent act, setting his things down next to where they stood munching on fruit, before turning to look at them both with equal parts disapproval and amusement "Why did two boys just come running passed me on the trail going on about glowing fledglings?"

Akeelah shrugged, biting into her peach, as Paul giggled into his next to her "I _don't_ know Nis. That is s_trange_."

"I know you two _did_ something, confess to your wrongdoing, and maybe the consequence will be less severe."

Again, she shrugged, "Can't prove it though, can he?" and looked beside her to her laughing friend.


	120. Manipulation

Akeelah knew she should have gone to someone, knew she should have told another about this problem she faced, knew that she had promised Nisroc to come to him if she ever needed help, but also knew that there was strength in handling ones own problems on their own, and one needed to be strong in order to be wanted, and thus kept the problem she faced under wraps.

She liked the warriors, the Powers were her favorites, and Michael of course was the best fighter of all, she liked watching them train and spar and practice and everything. But sometimes, as the classes got sorted and introduced to their new flock, they gained the impression that because they were of such a caste now that they were better than everyone else. Paul had seen it, he had warned her, told her to tell Nisroc before it got too bad, but she had waved him off with the assurance that she had it handled.

Besides, she didn't like taking orders from her elders, let alone someone just a bit more older then she was, and thus he was ignored.

But things had slowly went from bad to worse with the new class members, they didn't like that someone outside of their caste was so well taken with the Powers and Commander, was allowed to walk among them as they trained, and sometimes join in on the sparing. They had worked hard to get where they were, caught the attention of a Power or the Commander himself, and were placed hand-picked into the class they managed to gain entry to, and yet this fledgling came in without so much as breaking a sweat for her place.

And a _Choir Angel _none the less, at that.

That's just not how things worked.

Donavan was a sneaky youngling, he had been handpicked by the Captain Power himself, from a lower class of squires just picking up the wooden sword for the first time. And he knew he detested that ruddy fledgling as soon as he saw her, and found that two more shared his feelings just as well, and together they agreed to make things just as difficult as they could for her.

"I know what we want from you."

They had a past together, recently, and a secret shared between the two of them that she had asked him to keep, and in order to keep such a secret he needed to be paid as things don't come free in life. She sighed tiredly and nodded, not bothering to protest at his direct statement, and waiting patiently for him to tell her what she had to do now.

"We want you to get the Power's sword."

Akeelah's eyes widened "You want me to steal Nisroc's sword?"

"Yes."

"But…But that's _crazy_! He keeps it in his room! I can't get in there and out again with his _sword_!"

"If it's too hard for you I can always tell that you—"

"Fine! _Fine!_ I'll do it." Dread started filling her tone, but Donovan merely smiled, waving her off onto her way. She muttered about how much of a jerk he was under her breath as she did, glaring at him from over her shoulder, as she scurried out from the trainee barracks and scurried along the stone corridor that lead from the barracks to the Pavilion.

Michael and the Power's were training today, and it was just half passed midafternoon, if she was quick enough she could get in and out just before training completed for the day and they all returned to the Pavilion for wash and rest. The den as empty as she tiptoed up the steps, not a sound coming from the showers, and she tiptoed down the hall towards the back rooms, where the sleeping quarters were.

Titus' and Cerviel's doors were cracked and she peeked in to ensure they were empty before moving on, tiptoeing passed Haniel and Abraxos rooms, peering into the open doors of Raguel and Abraxos's rooms, before she came to a stop at the final door. It stood slightly a bit away from the door to the Archangel's office, and was cracked open, a light peering out from the clear window that faced the training fields below. She ducked to avoid being spotted in the window, and crept across the smooth granite floor to the sword that hung from the leather belt on the hook next to the closet.

It was almost as tall as she was, being a runt of a thing, and she gripped the sheath with both her little hands, and pulled at it gently until it budged. She stumbled back, tripping over her foot as she did, and fell hard onto her bottom. Wincing at the pain that spread from there through her entire form, she slowly set the sword down as she picked herself back up, and turned around for the door, reaching to pick the sword back up.

A boot caught her attention, her breath catching in her throat, when she followed the boot up to the leg that was sticking out of it, and over the torso and into the confused eyes of her older friend.

Training had ended early today.

"What have we here?"

Nisroc didn't sound angry with her, despite having caught her trying to take his sword, but he did seem hurt. Perhaps a little off put by it. Concerned maybe. But not angry. He knelt, so that they may be closer to the same level, curling his fingers around the place his boot had just been, and they locked eyes.

"Is there a reason you were attempting to pilfer my sword?"

When she shook her head, he sighed sadly, and pulled the sword away from her grasp despite her not reaching for it once having been caught in the act.

"Alright then, I'm afraid we will have to report this to the Commander, as you know you are not to be touching weapons without given permission."

Her eyes began sparkling with unshed tears and she stared up at him, lunging forward, between his knees, and hugged herself to his chest. It threw him off for a moment, falling back from the impact she had made, and he blinked in astonishment as he set his sword to lean against the wall next to them. Having just returned from the washroom, the last thing he expected was to see his favorite of fledglings attempting to steal his sword from his own room, and then to have her jump at him like this, he curled his arms around her shaking frame instinctively, and sat with her on the floor as she cried into his chest.

A few minutes passed when she finally pulled back once more, looking up at him with teary red eyes, "Nis….Remember when me and Paul were still mean to each other…..and they was following me….And you made me promise to come to you if…..if I needed help with anythin'?", he nodded in confusion and concern, remembering that day rather well, keeping silent to let her say her part, "Nis, I didn' want to 'cause I wanna be strong like you and Micha, but, but I _need _help!"

The Power brushed a hand down the back of her head soothingly, "Tell me what happened, Baby Power." It wasn't a question, it was a statement, now that she had told him that something had happened bad enough that she needed his help, he would not allow it to remain secret. She shook her head slightly, eyes watering even more, "I didn' wanna take your sword! I swear I didn'! But he made me! He said he'd tell if I didn' do what he said to and he can't tell cause then you'll all hate me for it!", he wiped away the tears that managed to escape, "I promise you, Baby Power, there is nothing you could do to make us turn our backs on you. Tell me what happened so I may help. You are a Power, little one, and Powers' look out for each other."

Akeelah stared at him for a long moment, as though trying to find fault in what he had said, and when she found none she nodded. And told him everything. _Everything_. He was not happy. Not happy that she had kept it to herself despite her promise, though happy that she had come in the end, and he was not happy that she had sworn young Paul into secrecy too. Unhappy that his young ward had agreed to keep the matter to himself. Unhappy that it was a matter in the first place, that the one he had handpicked from the classes was acting this way, unhappy about a lot of things.

But he was proud that the resolute fledgling had come in the end, for her; asking for help was admitting defeat although it was quite the opposite, and for her to come to him without much prompting took courage well beyond much of anything.

Nisroc swore to himself that he would deal with young Paul's agreed silence later, "How long has this been going on?" she looked down, "Since Titus's cloak went missing.", and the timeframe it took for help to be sought for later as well, but first he must deal with the problem at hand. The Power wiped away the rest of her tears, helping her to her feet, and reached for his sword, "Here, Baby Power, take my sword to them." She looked up to him in surprise as she grasped the sheath with both hands again at his silent urging, "And I will be right behind you to collect it."


	121. Misunderstanding

"But I didn' do it!", the fledgling struggled against the archangels grip, tugging on her warm with all that she was worth, dragging her feet behind her, anything to slow down the quick progress to the corner she was headed for. "I didn' do anything bad!"

"You stole my book, the one I've been working on for months, and then lie about it? That is not nothing."

Akeelah whined, trying to pry the fingers curled around her arm in vain, "But I didn'! I swear I didn'!" the protests fell on deaf ears though, as she was set in the corner, feeling the eyes of everyone in the room on her back, the fledgling flushed, but ignored the embarrassment to spin back around and try to plead once more "Rapha I _swear_! I don' know where it is! I _didn' _take it!"

"Turn." His tone was harsh in return, stern and hard, and she hiccupped silently at it, eyes going wide at the sudden shift. Nodding minutely to herself, the fledgling gave up on her pleading of her case, and turned to serve time in the corner she knew she had not earned. Raphael heaved a tired sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose, and turned to return to his duties and tend to his patients that needed tending to.

Time passed quickly, the sun shifting across the sky, and he admitted later that he had simply lost track of time. The fledgling was only meant to stand in the corner a few moments, but soon afternoon turned to evening, and the archangel was pulled from his all consuming work at the tug on his robes. He turned to see who required his attention, and felt his heart skip a beat at the sight of his leather book in the grasp of little hands, Adoni looked ashamed as he passed it up "I'm sorry Rapha…I jus' wanta ta read it." He took the book softly, his fingers curling over the edge, nodding his head as he turned to look at the corner in horror. "You are the one who took my book?", the young angel nodded sheepishly.

Silently dismissing the young angel with a firm look and a wave of his hand, he turned to address his error in judgement, setting the book down on a vacant bed he crossed the threshold to meet at his fledglings side.

Akeelah had been silent this entire time, watching as her day passed by from the corner she had been sent to without warrant, and he felt guilt growing from deep with in his belly until it consumed him completely.

"Little Akeelah…" how does one begin to apologize for punishing someone for a crime they did not commit, when they should have listened when they were told it wasn't them, when they let anger cloud their judgement. The muscles in the fledglings shoulders tightened at his voice, and he nearly choked on his words when she refused to turn and look at him, her voice was soft, shallow even, when she finally spoke up in return, "You find your dumb book." He nodded, despite knowing she would not see it, as she refused to turn and look at him, it was the least he deserved after such a twist in judgement he had made, and then to simply forget about her standing here like he had, inexcusable. "I did. I am so sorry fledgling, that I did not believe you, I should have from the start." Finally she turned, her eyes duller then usual, and her tone flat as she responded, "Can I come out now?"

"Yes, yes, of course. Come."

But she skirted around his reach, his heart cracking straight down the middle as she did, and spared him a final look "Thanks." Before turning to make her leave, leaving him standing alone in the corner he had so unjustly placed her in, he had no doubt as to where she was going and just who would be on his case later.

And as he watched her back disappear under the setting sun, he knew he deserved nothing less.


	122. Time

The process a fledgling went through when it came time for their wings to come in was filled with hurt and tears. It was two appendages, in most instances, growing under the skin, and when time to bloom, breaking through the skin of the shoulder blade and back. It started first with itching, severe itching, of the shoulder region and of the upper back, and aches. Aches that no salve could relief, something akin to a human babe growing in teeth for the first time, only warmth could contend with the aches and pains that came at the start.

Gabriel had known something was not right when she had come to him complaining about her back hurting. He had pulled her around gently, lifting the bottom of her top up to expose the delicate skin, and frowned at the red inflamed skin growing from each shoulder blade down and down in a wide long patch.

"Baby girl, I think your wings are coming in?"

"Really?"

Her eyes were bright with curiousness and excitement, but also with discomfort, and he nodded silently, plucking her up carefully around the waist, as to not disturb her tender shoulders and back with anything else.

"Let's go see Raphi."

The Messenger carried the pained little fledgling out of his office and down the hall towards the gaping entrance, Zaveriel met up with them and looked to his friend in worried confusion, to which the Archangel happily announced the occasion. The young messenger lit up and he was sure it was for a reason that was far from good and left with the order to retrieve Michael and Lucifer from their respective occupations, bidding his friend a soft word of encouragement as he left them. Gabriel smiled at their friendship, a true gem of Heaven, and made his way down the steps from his Aerie as gently as he could manage, stepped through a small portion of the crowd that was the Axis, and up the steps to the Infirmary.

Raphael seemed surprised to see them, passing the chart he'd been holding to a healer at his side, and stepped away to tend to his brother and their fledgling himself. Akeelah whined and reached for the big brother that always made the hurt go away, to which he happily took her in arm, gazing inquiringly at his younger brother. The Messenger smiled and gestured for her back, "I think someone's wings are finally coming in." his eyes widened of their own accord, "Oh? That is a joyous occasion." He rubbed a soothing hand down the back of her head and reached for the neck line of her top, "Let's take a look, shall we?", he nodded in agreement when he pulled the top back and saw the same red blotchiness that the Messenger had seen just previously, "I'd say you're right, little brother, come, let's get her a bed." And he turned, humming under his breath, as he knew that it helped to calm her when she was worked up, and turned to ask a younger healer to fetch a basin of warm water and quite a few cloths to work with. Some numbing agents, and pain relief, some anti-inflammatory and a new change of robes of the fledgling variety. Gabriel sat on the bed ahead of them, taking her back in his arms when his brother offered her over, pressing an encouraging kiss to her temple.

"She is not too far along, yet, the first shall start protruding here within the next half hour."

The Healer helped him pull her top off, folding it over a chair nearby, setting a few of the gathered cloths around her waist and around her to gather any unwanted fluid from staining anywhere else.

Michael and Lucifer were quick to respond, returning to the Infirmary just behind the young messenger sent to gather them, stepped around him to see to their fledgling's wellbeing, kneeling to her sight to give soft words of encouragement and comfort. Zaveriel bid them all a congratulations and knowing that it was a private affair for a member of a flock to grow their wings, helped the Healer pull dividers around them before taking his leave with the promise to return to his little friend.

The Healer gathered some tools; a good sized sponge, some bandages, a medical knife, and sat at her bedside.

"Little one, I am not going to lie to you, this is going to hurt but I will be as quick as I can be, alright?"

She nodded, little tears falling from her eyes like stars from the night sky, fingers clutching tightly to the Messengers top underneath them. The Healer spared his brothers a look, silently ordering them to keep her still when she began to struggle, and punctured the top of the first lump. Akeelah whined pitifully, squeezing the shirt tighter at the sting, and cried out when he pulled the knife downwards, cutting the lump completely open along the crested top.

Blood and other clear liquids spilled out, liquid that protected the little wing as it grew safely underneath, and he rubbed away the liquid from where he was working, tossing the used cloth to the side and reaching for another.

"Take a deep breath, little bear."

He heard her do so, tensing under his touch, as he placed his hands on either side of the red angry lump, and then he pressed. She screamed in agony as the appendage broke through the rest of the skin, more blood and fluids leaking out, struggling out of the Messengers grasp, and immediately trying to struggle from the grasp of her Choir Master as he took to holding her hands instead, the Prince stepping around to hold her by the waist. Gabriel wrapped his forearms around the back of her neck and pulled her close, burying her face into his chest, whispering words of comfort over her consuming sobs.

The wing fell to the side limply, and he tucked it up quickly, lest the muscle start to hardened with it outstretched.

"I am so sorry, little bear, one more and we are through the hardest part."

She shook her head, despite it's position buried in the Messengers chest, and they just made out the pleads to not to go again. Let it be. No more hurts. But the Healer knew better then to let it happen, and felt guilt worm into his heart when he dug the blade into the head of the other lump, her sobs reaching their ears once more, and pulled it downwards to release the top. He was quick in following, pushing the wing up through the skin and out in the open for them, rubbing as he went with his cloths, tossing them aside once used. Her shoulders heaved with the force of her sobs, and he bent the second wing up to allow the muscles to establish the feeling, rubbing away the blood and fluids with one hand and a numbing agent in with the other. The large holes would have to heal on their own, but with her wings came the grace, and they'd be healed within a week's time. After the numbing agent was in place, taking hold quickly, her sobs slowly started to calm at the soft coaxing from the Messenger and her Choir Master.

Michael helped him rub down the small downy appendages, utilizing the warm water in the proffered basin on the table next to them, they rubbed away the blood and other fluids revealing the two little feathered wings to them.

The were swirls of blues and blacks and purples, a spinning galaxy, with little spinning stars intermixed.

Little Akeelah turned at long last, still clutching to one of Lucifer's hands, the other to the Messenger's top, and looked down at them with bloodshot eyes.

"Did I….do…good?"

They all exchanged amused smiles, the Healer passing a damp cloth up to the Messenger to wipe down her little sweaty face, and he brushed a few fingers through the soft down and he smiled when the little wing twitched slightly under his touch, "You did outstanding, little bear."


	123. Accident

"Gabe, it hurts!"

The Messenger nodded in acknowledgement, running his fingers through the soft little feathered appendage, feeling for the injury from the gnarly fall she had taken. He had taught every fledgling to fly, and this time would be no different, and he would only rub it in his brothers faces for a little bit.

She fidgeted under his touch, looking over her shoulder to watch what her older brother was doing "It hurts really bad, Gabe!"

"I know it does, Nugget.", he scooped her up as mindful of her wing as best as he could be, wrapping in a warm hug as he turned them in the direction of the Infirmary, "Dear Dad, Raph is gonna kill me. I can hear it now _'Gabriel you should have been more diligent' _and _'Gabriel you shouldn't have had her trying to go up so high'_, oh man, " he spared the injured little fledgling an exasperated glance to which she giggled wetly at, progress at distracting her from the wounded little wing, "His lectures are the _worst_."

They stepped into the bustling Infirmary, being accosted quickly but Ariel to one of the empty beds, and Gabriel smiled kindly at the short healer as he sat on the edge and turned the fledgling around to sit in his lap. Akeelah curled around him, nudging her head up under his chin, her poor little wing hanging awkwardly against her back. Ariel took notice as to who he was immediately and dismissed herself to fetch the Healer to tend to them himself.

He watched her make her way through the bustling healers and tap his older brother on the arm, watched as his older brother looked in the direction she gestured in, and as his eye narrowed slightly. Gabriel leaned down to whisper in her ear, "Here comes Sir Lecture-A-Lot.", she giggled softly against his neck as he watched his older brother stalk towards them.

"What happened?", his tone was deceiving light as he pulled the little wing outward to examine it closer, running his fingers over the damaged area, "Gabriel, you swore to be mindful. You should have been more diligent, not have taken her so high. You need to be more mindful next time." He looked up too quick for the Messenger to cool his expression and reached up even quicker to smack him over the head, smiling at the fledglings giggles from the Messengers yelp, "Don't mock me!"

Akeelah looked up at him from her hiding spot, "Is it bad Rapha?", he smiled and rubbed her head, "Nothing too bad, just a bit of a bruise, it should be better by morning." She smiles up at him and he returned the gesture in kind, patting her cheek fondly, "Now go take it easy. Nothing too much no. I know Michael isn't too busy today, perhaps he will read with you?"

Gabriel nodded at him, standing from his seat, and lifted her to sit lightly on his hip.

"Thanks, Raph."

His older brother smiled lightly, patting his cheek in similar fashion, "Always, little brother."


	124. Broken

"What was that.", Gabriel had dragged him all the way back to his office after the confrontation down on Earth, passed stunned messengers in the halls of the Aerie, and had slammed the door behind him, "What in our Father's Holy Name w_as that_?"

Zaveriel looked defiant, his head inclined slightly to show as such, refusing to quell in the rage of an Archangel, he had his rights and knew he was in such a manner. He did not have to follow foolish orders and he would never step on the line for the likes of that _lowly _seraph and his two _humans. _He would see himself fall to a sword first before he ever stood in the line of fire for them.

"I stand by what I said.", his tone was flat, harder then it usually was, and filled with so much resilience, "I will not throw myself to the sword for them. Ever. _Even _if you order it."

"That is stepping out of place."

He stepped forward, poking a finger harshly into the Messengers chest, "_No_. It is me taking _control."_ He poked him again, glaring with a fire unseen before, his anger clear on his features "_Control t_hat you left me when you ran away. You can come back and pretend that everything's just fine as much as you want, but deep down you _know _its not. That traitor _turned _his back on us and would more than willingly meet us on the end of his blade at his preconceived notion of the _greater good _then he would the other way around."

"Mind yourself."

_"__Look around you, Gabriel._"

It was the first time the younger had called him by his true name, typically it was a variation of it, a nickname, or a jokesters title, but this threw him off guard. His eyes widened in surprise, as the young messenger stepped back and waved his arms around, as though gesturing to the world.

"Look at what y_ou all _have done to us." Zaveriel was on a roll now, they could ignore it all they wanted, but it would never change a thing, it would never be quite right again, "You've _broken _us _all_!" he made a gesture to his right side, despite it just being the two of them in the room, as if making a gesture for something to be seen, "_Look _at the _fledglings _who lay awake at night because of the fears that haunt their minds. _Look _at the scars they bare. From a _war _that they had no place being in." he gestured next to his left, "Do you even _see_? _See _the damage you Archangels have caused. We are broken because of you. We were forced into a war that we had not asked for because of your infighting. You can _rebuild _all you want but it _doesn't fix _the broken people."

His gusto was slowly leaving him, his chest heaving as tension slowly began to fade, but still he stood there stubbornly. Staring at his master, waiting for him to say something, and Gabriel knew there was nothing he could say to deny such accusations. It was all true, and they knew it to be, they had broken their family nearly beyond repair, because of their infighting. There were still fledglings who fled at the sight of them, the number who didn't he could count on one hand and it was even less when you subtracted the fledgling that lived in their flock now, it was an accusation they were all guilty to.

"I know."

There was no apology that could mend what they had broken, and it was true, they could rebuild all they wanted, but there would always be a piece that was still out of line. Still busted. Still broken. And it was no one else's fault but their own. So, he didn't bother with apologies. He didn't bother to try and rebuff for the tone. He stepped around the young messenger and fell heavily into one of the chairs behind him, taking his head in his hands, heaving a shuttering breath when he heard the other sit next to him.

"I know."

He knew it to be true, in different ways, they were all still a little broken.


	125. Plan

"Okay, you remember you're part?"

The two friends sat huddled together, whispering their grand scheme themselves in hushed tones, Akeelah giggled softly into her hand and nodded excitedly. Paul grinned and gave her a thumbs up. Both so caught in solidifying their plans, neither noticed the two elders standing in the entry way watching them closely.

Haniel grinned and pat his brother on the arm "It appears they've got something in store for _someone_." Nisroc sighed, ending in a deep hum, crossing his arms loosely over his chest as he watched the pair of them whisper to each other conspiringly "Indeed, they do." He nodded his head softly "All is well. Let them come. They have to learn the consequences sometime."

"You're fond of them, and you know it."

"As if you're not. Don't think I don't know who helped them stash my sword just this last week."

"Guilty as charged."

He would allow any and all pranking and mischief as long as it meant that they two young angels he was so fond of got along together. Paul had told him, after the incident on the Axis, in trust that they had once been friends. Not as close as her and Zaveriel were, not many were as close as those two were, but nearly a close second. It hadn't been until he called her a coward, told her that he would never be friends with a coward like she had been, that their friendship had broken to pieces. He knew from experience that the young fledgling could hold a grudge like no other, he'd lived through some weeks where she would speak not a word to him for something that hurt her feelings (such as the days of rest he kept forgetting their engagements they'd planned early in advance), and wouldn't speak to him again without encouragement.

It warmed the Power in a fond way to see them act as such once more, they were cute together, always planning and giggling about something or other. It certainly made training more interesting, and he spent more time in the garden now, but it was worth it.

So, when he found the fledgling in the Armory, messing with his armor, he knew who to look for next, the other not far behind from their friend. Nisroc had not been a guardian for quite some time, and technically speaking he was not now, but he was the next best thing to one. Young Paul had come a long way under his wing, opened more then he had before, told him more of his fledglinghood then he had thought to be true. It made his grace twist knowing that someone so cruel could be made into a guardian when he was more then capable.

"You two will learn.", he dropped them both on his bed, dipping his fingers in the gooey substance in his boots, and rubbing them together as he tried to place where it had come from, "What happens to those who try and get one up on me.", he left them sit where they lie, turning his attention on the two curling together on his bed, light giggles already escaping them in a harmonic duet.

The Mighty Power wiggled his fingers at them as he climbed onto his bed before them, and they curled even more into one another.

"Oh, I will make sure you two know."


	126. Prank

Gabriel stormed up to them one sunny afternoon as they sat on the steps of his Aerie laughing at one another, joking between themselves, and doing what they usually did on slow days, with his dripping satchel in hand a dark expression clouding his eyes.

"Which one of you two did it?"

Both looked up in surprise at his sudden appearance, and then to the soaked satchel he held up for them to see, exchanging a quick look they both shrugged in sync.

"We don't know, big brother."

He narrowed his eyes at the two of them, he had important messages to deliver today and could not carry out that duty with a soaking wet satchel, it was not a good day to prank him. Usually he was all for it and would give back just as good as he got, but not today of all days as he just didn't have the time for it.

"Don't play with me. I know one of you did it. Fess up."

Zaveriel looked just as surprised as his partner in crime did, eyes wide with disbelief, "It wasn't us, boss, we know you were busy today and held off like you'd asked." Akeelah nodded in agreement "So we planned for a different time. It wasn't us this time." And they both finished together "We swear."

The Messenger turned, fuming, because he had duties to be attending to, and because he knew that he couldn't be mad at them when they were being truthful. They were troublemakers, whom he would not trade for anything in the world, but they were honest troublemakers and didn't dish anything out that interfered with another's duties.

Unbeknownst to him, at the moment at least, the Healer stood from afar watching as his younger brother had to borrow another's satchel, much too small for him, and laughed at the indignation he expressed as he flew off to tend to his deliveries.

That would show him.


	127. Realization

It wasn't until they found her sleeping in a high tree branch, that the Messenger finally asked the question they were all thinking, it nearly gave the three of them heart attacks when they found her sleeping precariously in such high places and even more so annoyed them when the Morningstar merely laughed at their awe at her odd skill of falling asleep just about anywhere.

"Why do you always fall asleep so high up?"

Akeelah rubbed the sleep from her eyes and stretched, looking up at him at the sound of his voice, giving a big yawn before any words could get out.

"I like being up high."

He gave her a strange look, tilting his head to the side slightly, "You like being up high?" he seemed disbelieving that was the only reason "That's it?"

"Yep."


	128. Secret

"Micha, can I show you something?"

The mighty Archangel turned to look up from his book he'd borrowed from the Healer, humming in acknowledgement as he marked his place and gave the fledgling his attention, the little one stood a tad nervously before him. Playing with the hem of the bottom of her robes, she peered down at him inquisitively, as though wondering on if she should stay or run away before he got the chance to answer.

"Of course, little one."

Akeelah nodded slightly, nervously, and reached into her robe for something that she kept hidden from him. She sat, lowering herself to sit upon her folded legs, just before him and he shut the book to set to the side as she did. Her little hand slowly withdrew again, fingers curled around something tightly.

"I…Um…. I found it…. The day after the _day_….and I took it…."

Michael tilted his head in confusion, eyebrows quirking in wonder, "Found what, little star?"

She nodded quickly and looked down to her closed fist, before thrusting it out to him. His large hand came to rest under hers, as though he knew that's what she wanted of him, and his breath caught when she finally opened her fist and it fell into his hand.

Back when it had been just the four of them, growing in The Garden with their Father, before the dawn of Adam and Eve, before any of the fighting, they had each crafted a piece to remind the other of the flock they belonged to. Lucifer had crafted him a star, melded to a piece of chain, a pendant, as he had helped in creating the stars.

The Morningstar had torn it off when he'd held him over the edge, during _that day, _and he thought it lost forever. And all this time his sneaky little Choir Fledgling had had it with her in secret. He stared down at it in wonder, not sure what to say, words having been pulled from him at the sight of it.

"Please don't be mad. It took me a while to learn how to fix it. I had to use some of my grace though you guys always tell me not to unless you're there to watch."

"Be mad?", he curled his fingers around the star, feeling the cool remnant of grace pulse through his hand, and he looked up to her with misty eyes "I cannot be mad at you for this, little star. I had thought it lost in The Fall and to have it back means more to me than words can express."

She smiled at him, leaning forward to pat his fist with her little fingers, "It's really pretty."

"Indeed, it is, here,", he leaned forward himself, reaching his hands up and around her neck, clasping the chain behind and pulling the star to rest down on her belly. It was much too big for her, something she would surely grow into, as it was made for him in mind, but he could think of no one better to pass it to then their little fledgling "You can have it. I give it to you." He touched a finger lightly to the star and it glowed a soft amber as he left a piece of grace in it, the amber swirled with icy silver and it cast a wonderous hue "You will always have a piece of me and your master with you now. It shows you have family no matter where you may be. You will always have a home to return to when you are lost."

Akeelah looked down at it, her little mouth hanging open in surprise, and lifted the hallow star with both hands watching as the pieces of both graces swirled together.

"Thank you, big brother."

"Always, baby sister, you are always a part of me."


	129. Alone

**_Song listened to: 'On My Own' by Ashes Remain._**

Sometime, when it was dark out, and way passed bedtime, Akeelah would sit awake and watch as her master stared up at the ceiling above them unblinkingly, almost as though he were staring up at something that wasn't there.

He wouldn't say a word, would just stare, and in those times, she knew that he had been affected by the same war that had broken them all. She had heard the stories of him being locked in a grand cage, created at their Father's order, to preserve humanity. Heard of the battle that had been raged between the two brothers; as one fought for freedom and the other for imprisonment.

It was their secret, though she suspected that the Healer knew at the very least, but he was not brave enough to broach the subject. He had pulled her aside one day, during her weekly visit to the Infirmary to help in his duties and told her what to do if anything _'odd' _were to ever overcome her master.

She turned on her side, looking up into his set expression, and sighed a small sigh, turning onto her belly to push herself up, she crawled from her place at his side up onto his chest and sat up straight. His hand was limp as she lifted it up to hug to her chest tightly.

"Luci?"

There was no immediate response. He just kept staring.

"Luci, please?"

He just kept staring. At the unseen bars in the darkness. The glowing of the stars turned into glowing flames. The light breeze turned into howls of the tortured souls.

"Luci, please, come back?"

She pinched his palm hard, trying to rouse him from his trance, and hummed under her breath. When he didn't respond she tried another tactic, anything to pull him back from wherever he had gone, as she didn't want to make him mad by getting the help of another. So, she laid herself down on his chest instead, tucking her head under his chin, and curled in as close as she could.

"Luci, I'm here, I'm right here. Please don't leave me alone and I won't leave you."

Akeelah dragged his limp arms up and around her, hugging herself to his chest, listening to the rhythm of his grace beating against his chest. She hummed under her breath, waiting for any beat of movement, hoping to feel any movement from her beloved master. Minutes passed and she remained as still as he was. Perhaps an hour passed next and the arms around her tightened by a fraction.

"Little one?"

His voice was soft, as though it was being blown away by the breeze flowing through the open windows, and she looked up to meet his icy eyes as he blinked down at her as awareness began to come back to him.

"Little Akeelah?"

"'m here Luci. I promise I'm here. 'm no goin' anywhere."

Lucifer pulled her closer, burying his face in her wild curls, having removed the braids before her bath that night and intending to braid them back in the coming morning. She hugged him just as tight as he hugged her, stabilizing him in the moment they were in currently and no where else.

"It was so dark."

"I know Luci. I know. It's okay now though. I promise."

"It was so lonely."

"I'm here Luci. 'm here. 'm not going anywhere."

They laid curled up together for a long while, sleep pulled at the little fledgling, but she stubbornly stayed it out as to not break her promise and leave her master laying awake on his own. Neither one spoke after that, taking comfort in the others being there, no words could offer the comfort they were both seeking.

He pet her curls back, "Close your eyes, little one.", he kissed her temple lightly, "You're exhausted."

"Not 'til you do. Don'wanna leave you 'lone."

"I know you're here, little one."

They both fell asleep just as the sun began to crest over the horizon, curled into one another as they had started during the night before, and when the others came to find them at their missed appearance by midday, Michael smiled and ushered them away from the pair. "Let them rest." It wasn't just the Healer who knew of the nightly occurrences. "They need it."

Had they not used that dreaded prison for the worst of the worst he would have seen it destroyed in a breath. But they had use of it, so maintained it was, and he would ensure that his younger brother would never see it in the light of day or dark of night again.


	130. Danger

**_Song listened to during this chapter: 'Oceans (Where feet may fail)' by Hillsong UNITED._**

The loud sharp crack filled the air around them, the demons crowding around the safety of the shore hooting and hollering against the whistling wind, keeping them trapped in the middle of the icy prison. A Knight pulled its flaming sword from the edge of the icy lake, grinning in morbid amusement as the crack crawled forward, towards the ones trapped in its path.

Another sharp crack echoed in their ears, louder than the first, a tiny body pressed closer to his legs in fear and fingers clutched tightly to his leg as the crack slowly drew nearer.

"Zaves, what do we do now?"

It was meant to be a simple mission, just some deliveries to make, there and back again before they were really missed. And then they had been ambushed, weighed down with the friend he would give his life for rather then abandon, they ran in the other way tracking thick snow under them as they did, until they had been pushed out onto the frozen lake by their pursuers.

He tracked the approaching crack with clear focus, pulling the little body closer to him with his arm curled around it, and braced them as it neared ever more.

"Stand as still as you can."

"Zaves, I'm scared."

The messenger turned to look down to his little friend, his eyes portraying his sincerity as he replied, "Me too." He braces them as the crack spreads under their feet, trying to keep them as still as he possibly can, as long as they don't move the ice will remain despite how touchy it may be. The Knight hurls a good-sized rock at them, anything to get them to break through, it catches him heavily in the chest and he falls backwards.

The ice beneath him breaks; cold water, no breath, spikes dig into every part of him, pain so horrid that its numbing. The moonlight that was illuminating the lake around them slowly disappears. His arms flail weakly against the frigid water, the cold sapping his energy away like a sponge, and it steals the heat from every inch of his skin. Another splash follows his, a dark figure slowly falling towards him, arms flailing much like his had been, until they slowly come to a stop too. And the body just floats gently towards him instead, it bumps into his chest lightly, as they both sink to the dark bottom of the frozen lake, the bright moon becoming dimmer and dimmer.

As they drift downwards, the light weight pressing against him jostling with the currant of the water, gives him unknown strength to move as they sink deeper and deeper. First its his fingers, they twitch weakly, and them his arms begin to waver again, weak as he may be. Nearly as frozen as the water they're surrounded by, he curls an arm around the middle of the limp body sinking with him and manages to win the struggle to kick his legs. Slowly but surely the light from the moon begins to get brighter and brighter, until he can see it just beyond the crest of the rolling water above him, he explodes from the water with a might unknown, gasping in a deep breath and coughing as water laps into his open mouth. He tugs the limp body up weakly, pushing it up against the thick ice that was too much so to crack, struggling to lift it up high enough to get it onto the frozen solid surface again. After what seems like an eternity the struggles pay off, and the body glides upwards, a splat echoes in the silence as a pruned little hand falls limply outward and smacks against to solid ice, the body not moving from the position it wound up in at his insistent urging upwards.

Whatever adrenaline needed, to save his young friend from the cruel fate of drowning in the icy depths, starts to wear off once more and he can feel the grip of freezing darkness pulling at him. He looks to the shore as he slowly sinks, after a brief struggle to pull himself up, and makes out the fuzzy silhouettes of persons standing at the shore.

As he sinks again, he fears that it be the demons waiting to slaughter them in the weakened state, his mind whirling numbly at the idea that he left his closest friend up there limp on the ice, ready for the taking for anyone to do her in. He kicks once, then twice, and explodes upwards with one final burst of adrenaline, clawing at the ice as he weakly struggles to pull himself up. After another eternity, he manages it, and weakly falls over the still body of his friend on the thick ice underneath them both, choking on a cold breath as the darkness creeps up on him again.

Vaguely, over the numbing silence that threatens to take him captive, he can hear what sounds like strong wing beats in the air above them and warms arms wrap around his middle. Slowly he's lifted from over his friends body, hears the rustle of fabric as someone takes her up, and then the climb as they soar upwards.

Darkness pulls him under.

They both officially wake two days later, Akeelah blinks slowly into awareness, feeling the weight of someone's arms around her and keeping her in place. She moves weakly, from under someone's chin, and her hands press into a soft bare chest. The arms around her tighten slightly and she turns to look up at them, meeting the hazel eyes of her friend, he smiles down at her and pulls the blanket even more so around them both.

"You're alright."

She knows that voice and wants to ask it how they got there but she only has the energy to search out her friend, the one who had pulled her up from the water, the one who always gave everything to make sure she was okay. A hand reached out from under the blanket, pointing to the bed opposite, the one the Healer was leaning over.

"Your friend is over there. He's alright. You both gave us all quite the scare."

She nods, licking her lips, and turns to look up at him again, "Nis?" warm lips press to her temple, and he nods against it, "I am here." They settled into silence after that. The fledgling laying her head back down, watching from over his arm as the Healer tends to the messenger, and when he steps away her eyes meet those on the other end. Zaveriel tries to sit up but it stopped in quick succession, "Keela! You're awake! Let me go Oren, she's awake!"

The Healer calms him with a hand placed on his head, possibly to sedate him with his own healing energy, before he turns to check on the youngest one. Akeelah watches him silently, eyes wide, as he draws nearer and settles a nimble hand over her forehead, and then her cheeks "She is warming up nicely. It is good to have you back with us, little one." He rubbed a warm thumb over her cheek, "What happened, little Akeelah?"

"They came outta nowhere, big brother…"


	131. Experience

**_Song listened to: 'Soldier' by Fleurie._**

"We thank you for joining us."

It was not often that the Council of Archangels asked others to join them, not often that they were invited in the Council Chamber and the door shut behind them, it was not something anyone _wanted _to have happen as only those who had wronged Heaven in the most grievous way was pulled to the Council. The last had been the Grigori, and their curse bestowed upon them, there was some who still avoided the Prince as best as they could.

One brave soul raised their chin, a Blacksmith, still covered in the soot of the furnace where the Holy Weapons were forged, "We weren't given much of a choice in the matter."

Among them, in total, sat six representatives for the different factions. Akeelah sat in for the Choir. Salathiel stood in for the Blacksmiths and Armors. Malachi stood for the factions. Zaveriel was there to represent the messengers. Oren the Healers. And Nisroc the Warriors.

They sat at a circular stone table, as to suggest that not one of them sat at the head as though above any other in any way, and the Archangels watched them all silently.

Michael sighed, figuring that if no one else would begin this meeting, then he would be the one to step up to the lead.

"No. You weren't. To rebuild we must also rebuild among the people. We need to broach the subject."

"Of the war that was not ours to fight?", the others nodded at Malachi's accusation and they bit back there protest, it was of course as true as true could be. They had all been victims of a war that they had no part in. Michael closed his eyes as he nodded in agreement, "Yes."

"What's there to talk about?" Zaveriel was not holding back, not for his master, and not for the others. This was something that they wanted to broach, a wound they wanted to reopen, despite it being left to fester, and allow to spill out everywhere. "You guys started a war that you expected us to fight for you. And only now are you bringing it up because your guilt eats at you about it."

Silence rang loud over them, from the left of the Power, the littlest one looked between them all and shrugged.

"We refuse to get close enough to the Prince and Healer to allow them to tear us apart."

It was the first admission for the afternoon, and all eyes turned to look at the young one as she sat twiddling her fingers. As if taking her lead, the messenger chimed in again, looking his master in the eyes.

"We are waiting on bated breath for the moment our Master to abandon us again."

The Blacksmith nodded in turn, resting his fists on the table, "We refuse to be ordered to create a weapon that could kill another master, again."

Malachi followed, "We are not mindless soldiers, not all of us, and we will not be treated as such again.", Nisroc agreed to much of the same. They had been treated as though they were only there to do the bidding for either side, and they were so much more than that. They were people with personalities and minds of their own. Not created to merely stand in line on the battlefield. "I refuse to cut down my brothers and sisters where they stand for where they chose to be sorted."

"You locked us up in the prison after Luci was banished.", they turned back to the fledgling, she was staring ahead at her hands, none had suspected that was the horror they had faced. They had all faced horrors unimaginable, but the choir even more so, having been under the disgraced ones tutelage only gave them scorn and suspicion. There were many actions taken against the Choir that would be regretted for some time. "Sometimes it still haunts us in the dark of the night." Nisroc and Malachi looked down to their own hands, shame clouding their features, as though they too remembered the begging that had fallen on deafened ears back then. Remembered how they had struggled so as the elders were torn from their fledglings side, the fledglings resorted into the factions, it was how her flock had been taken from her. "Sariel's annoying, but they did bad stuff, she doesn't trust you. We hadn't done _anything, _but we were treated like criminals." She looked up at Michael, the one who had stood tall as they were shackled and thrown away without the key, the one who had rained down on them with fire and rage, as though they were at fault for what had become of the Morningstar. "I watched them do bad stuff to Jeremiah. But he wouldn't scream, like I know he wanted to, because he knew I was watching. That's why he doesn't fly anymore. His wings healed wrong because no healers would come see them after they were released. The Healer looked down in shame, it had been he who had told his flock to keep away from the prisoners, they had earned their punishment, for _merely _existing.

"Things can never be as they were before."

Zaveriel was quite, subdued even, as he spoke his final piece, to which the others nodded along with in agreement. It was true after all, one could rebuild all they wanted after a war had torn through, but things would never be as they once were. It was the cost of fighting a war one had no part in, trust being stolen as a casualty, and without the foundation of trust under it all, the structure could never really rise again. There would always be a fault line.

"We don't trust you." He looked between them all "How can we trust you when we don't know you anymore?"

"Sir." For the first time since their meeting had begun, the Power finally spoke up for himself, instead of continuing his watching from afar. He crossed his hands before him on the table and heaved a large sigh, "With all due respect, may I speak freely?"

"Always, my friend."

"You have destroyed a heart. We are all broken, and so tired, continuing on because it is all we know. Sometimes it is better to pretend the hard time did not happen to allow yourself to continue to exist."


	132. Joke

**_Song listened to: 'Partners in Crime' by Set It Off Ft. Ash Costello_**

"Zaves!"

The young messenger looked up at the sound of his name, smiling brightly at the sight of his young friend, returning her excited wave in turn, and tilted his head in confusion at the other one that joined her at her side. He had heard the rumors of course but hadn't known if they were true or not, but as it appears, with his joining them, those rumors held a bit more truth to them than he had thought.

"Hey, Akeelah.", he nodded to the other one, "What's he doing here?"

She giggled and elbowed the young angel at her side, "Nis said for him to do something _'productive'._"

"I thought you didn't like him, though."

Akeelah nodded, "I don't. He's dumb." The one at her side nodded in agreement, "And she's stupid." Zaveriel smiled as he caught one, nodding his head, crossing his arms loosely to express just how impressed he was with their cunning. "You two!"

Paul kicked at an unseen stone sheepishly, "Sorry I hurt you."

"Don't sweat it kid. Can't help that you're badass."

He looked up to see the messengers bright eyes and contagious smile, and soon enough returned the gesture, the messenger waved him over to see the grand book him and the young Choir fledgling had been working on for quite some time now. It was full of their best work; competition, pranks, jokes, the whole works. He kept it safely hidden away under his bed with the food for the fox pup he had stashed in his room. Gabriel was accustomed to being on many battle fields but the one place he refused to go was his lieutenants bedroom, thus his fox pup, Buster, was safely hidden away.

"So, who's our target this week?"

Akeelah pulled her friend forward with her, the three of them crowding around the large book suspiciously, giggling together as they flipped the pages one after the other. She nudged the messenger in the side, "Paul should pick! It's his first time in our club!"

"You have a club?"

"Sure do, can't tell you though! It's a secret club!"

Akeelah giggled again, "He just says that 'cause he can't think of a name for it."

They let the youngling flip through their book for some time, letting him mule over the pages he turned to, watching in amusement as his eyes widened at a few he came across. There was few who dared go against Father Himself, but even He had made it in their book, they left no one out as to be unbiased in their choices.

Paul smiled as he came to the one, he liked and pointed at it, they took that as their cue to gather around, and Zaveriel smiled.

"A sarcasm war. _Nice_."

"You're _nice." _Was the boy's response and the messenger grinned at him, "You're gonna fit _right _in." he lifted up a few hundred pages and pointed at the section marked up as '_victims'_, "We're doing the time. Who's getting' the time?"

Paul mauled it over for some time, never daring go up against the highest one there was and pointed at the top of the list.

"I cannot express to you in words how happy it makes me that you picked the Old Man."

They all shared a grin and rushed off for the Throne Room to get their war kicked off and started, allowing their new participant the honor of going first, Paul was a bit shy at first, hanging out around the doors. But his new friends encouraged him, and walked with him, at his sides, as they entered the grand Throne Room.

Aunt had returned from wherever it was She had gone, and Her and Father sat talking to one another humorously, when She noticed their entrance.

"Brother, it appears the troublemaking ones have recruited a new member to their club."

He turned to look at the three of them, a smile gracing His features, noticing immediately the two young ones who had once had so much strife between them.

"Little Paul, I haven't seen you since you were a toddling little thing, always playing at My feet.", Paul blushed lightly and turned away from Him, "Look at how much you've grown. Tell Me, My son, what can I do for you?"

The trainee looked to his two friends for support, and they nodded again, smiling encouragingly, and he turned to look back up at his Father again with a newfound courage.

"I hope when I inevitably choke to death on gummy bears people just say I was killed by bears and leave it at that."

Aunt started laughing immediately, turning to look at Her Brother, and began laughing even harder at His expression. He, for one, ignored His Sister laughing at Him and pointed an accusatory finger at the two known troublemakers.

"You've both gone and corrupted a perfectly good angel. "


	133. Lose

**_Song listened to: 'All I've Ever Needed' by AJ Michalka_**

"Jeremiah?", her old guardian looked over at the sound of his name, smiling, he left the flowers he was tending to and walked around the stone veranda of their Pantheon to sit at her side on the top step "Can I ask you a question?"

"You just did." He chuckled at the look she sent his way and relented "How can I assist you Lil Keela?"

"What were you before you became a Choir Elder?"

He hummed and leaned back on his hands, looking ahead of them, down to the bustling square below where brothers and sisters milled about on their way between duties. Jeremiah had not always been in the Choir, he was one of those who had been created in one flock and moved to another when he reached the age to choose his legion, originally, he had been placed under Michael's tutelage. Something that had made him a dire necessity in the war, as he knew of the tactics they would use, before they were implemented. The Choir Elder was a pacifist by nature but knew his way with a sword as good as any Warrior did.

"I was almost made a Power. Me and Nisroc were in the same class together. Michael had wanted both of us to join him as his personal legion. Nisroc did, as you can see, and flourished in the position. It suits him."

She turned to look up at him, "And you chose the Choir." To which he nodded "I chose the Choir."

"Were you ever scared that you chose wrong?"

"Sometimes, when I was first chosen. I often regretted my decision. There were times I nearly asked to be allowed back."

He had asked a number of times, actually, and on all occasions both Archangels had agreed on whatever decision he chose to go with, allowing him to remain where he thought his talents were best met. Nisroc had tried to convince him to come back, asked him to be his second, but he'd stayed with the Choir both times. Something he knew was right. He fit in there the best. It was his flock then and now.

"Was Micha mad that you chose to leave him?"

"Not at all, he was happy I found a place that I belonged and flourished there." He faltered a moment, "Until the war, of course. Then it was personal. But times are changing." Jeremiah smiled down at the little fledgling and nudged her with his arm, "Why do you ask? Planning on leaving us so soon?"

Akeelah's eyes widened quickly, and she was quick in shaking her head, "No, no! It's just…. What if _someone _were to leave?"

The Elder pondered a moment, smiling to her in order to show he was joking with his questioning. "Then they would be where they were supposed to be. Doing what they were created to do. And always have a flock to return to. Look at your dear friend Zaveriel. He has been around the block a few times. Starting under Raphael's tutelage, and then moving to Gabriel's, and then onto Michael's during the war, and back to Gabriel's after peace was called."

His old charge looked content with that answer, and he hugged her to his side, she smiled and wrapped her arms around his chest, burrowing in deep for a moment, and then they parted the embrace.

Jeremiah stood first, holding a handout to help her to her feet, and together they returned to tending to the flowers that the Gardener had gifted to them to liven the place up a bit.

"Will you ever get your wings looked at, 'Miah?"

"Perhaps, one day, and I have no doubts that you will be there to see it too."

Akeelah was left to her thoughts passed that point, as she listened to her old guardian hum under his breath mindlessly, walking between the pots that had been set on the edge of the banister. She was still too young to be thinking about choosing where she wanted to do, that wouldn't be until she was much older, but it had been on her mind recently and wouldn't leave her in peace.

She was squeezed back into his side unexpectedly, a hand curled around the side of her head, and she looked up at him in confusion, "I would still be proud of you, even if you did decide to go elsewhere, you would always be my '_Lil 'Keela'_"


	134. Mission

**_Song listened to: 'Confident' by Demi Lovato._**

Finding oneself separated from the protection of their team is never something anyone wants to experience, it's better to fight at someone's side then alone, to know that someone trusted has your back as you fight your way forward.

But she had not survived everything she's lived through by being helpless in tough situations, especially with odds against her favor, and she adjusted the grip on her daggers as she lowered herself in the fighting position that the Caption and Commander often fell into during battle, something that had been observed for nearly a thousand years without capture.

They thought she was an easy target, intending to separate the weak link from the others in order to bring it down to their will, to their might. But she was far from weak, and too stubborn to be easily defeated, having been watching the trainings of the Prince and his Power's for near close to a decade at least.

With a clear head, focus on the task at hand, goal to get back to her elders in one piece, she jumped forward.

The celestial silver sunk deep into the calf of a large vampire, and he howled in pain as he tumbled over, silenced only by the point of a blade being driven into his skull. The others stood watching in surprise at the sudden attack from one so young before jumping in the fray.

It had been a simple hunting mission, which was why she was allowed to tag along, with the companionship of Michael and Nisroc, to aid the Winchesters and her least favorite angel in taking care of a large vampires nest in the middle of a small town somewhere in Missouri.

Akeelah knelt, one hand on the ground, staring up at the remaining enemy with harsh eyes, big brother always told her not to use her grace so much lest she use too much and burn out her core, but her eyes still began to slow with the power of creation, and then she jumped forward.

They screamed in agony as she reached for their faces, jumping from back to back, shoulders to shoulders like a little monkey swinging between branches. The fledgling used her height to her advantage, slicing through tendons to bring them crashing to the ground paralyzed, and drove the blade into the last skull when the double doors were thrown open.

Both angels looked ready to jump into the fray, stalling at the bodies lining the floor, and the fledgling sitting amidst them silently, fingers curled loosely around the daggers she was permitted to use when being supervised by an Archangel or Power. The hunters looked around the room in shock, perhaps at the amount of bodies that littered the floor, or at the glowing eyes of the young angel sitting among them. Their angel friend stood behind them, wisely keeping his distance, as the remnants of burning grace melted out in the air around them.

Michael recovered first, holding a handout for the little fledgling, "Come, little star, we return home now."


	135. Power

**_Song listened to during this chapter: 'Power' by Little Mix ft. Stormzy_**

The attack had come out of nowhere, during a day of rest no less, and no one was prepared as much as they should have been. The Power's rushed to gather their weapons, the Archangels moved swiftly to the defense at the head, Principalities jumped into motion as quick as they could. The gatekeepers did as much a good job as they could keeping the intruders from breaking through, but even they had their limits, and soon enough they were able to break through.

Fledglings were corralled to the Heart Hall as quick as they could be, under the protection of Cassiel and Diniel, the Archangels little fledgling among them as they were ushered along. With every step she made, running with the crowd, being ushered forward by three older sisters, she watched the shrinking form of her friends wage battle against the invading demons.

The battle shifted, when a screech filled the air, and the bright icy grace of her choir master glowed around them as the temperature dropped to near freezing.

Ignoring the urging of one of the caretakers, the tugging on her arms and shoulders, the fledgling slowly came to a stop. Staring with wide eyes where the explosion had come from, something in her snapped, something broke, it was the _same _scream that had rang through all of Heaven when the Morningstar's wings had been broken by the Prince, before he was shoved over the abyss.

Their Choir Master had just returned to them again, in whole, and things were just starting to get better. It was slow but it was happening. They couldn't lose him again. She wasn't sure they could live through that again, losing him all over again, it had hurt the first time, nearly killed them all and if it were to happen again it would perhaps succeed this time.

Laylah removed her hand with quick haste, shaking it out to cool the burn, from where she had it pulling at the immovable fledglings shoulder. The poor thing was watching the fighting with apt attention, as though trying to find sight of someone close to her heart, and the caretaker looked quickly to the others, frantic in the need to get _all _the little ones to the safety of the Heart Hall.

"Come, they will be fine, we must go."

She tried again to grab at the fledglings arm, and the skin of her hand bubbled even in the mere moments she had made contact, and she pulled her hand back with a soft shriek watching as the skin welted and melted away layer upon layer.

"They hurt Luci."

"The Morningstar is second of Heaven's command! He can care for himself well enough! Come now!" though she implored the fledgling to follow them all, she dared not touch the young one again, already nursing on charred hand.

Laylah's eyes widened as the little thing balled her fists tightly, a glow beginning to form around her clenched fists, spreading slowly up her arms, over her torso, until it consumed her entirely. Little eyes turned to look over at her, and instead of the cool blue the fledgling was known for, they glowed a bright blue, the wind seeming came to stand still around them, nothing moved. Nothing at all.

**"****No."**

Light wisped of her; purples and blues and yellows, the color of the galaxy. Of a star being born. Exploding into being. And Laylah took a shocked step backwards from her. Eyes tracking her movements as the fledgling held a glowing little hand out, fingers outstretched in front of her, the glowing glare cast at the invading clan of demons. Those who had hurt her Choir Master. She focused on them and them alone, her star unbreakable, and slowly her fingers began to close. The air around them was sucked away, slowly but steadily, and though they didn't choke, down the way in the midst of their fighting, the attacking demons did. They grabbed at their necks, eyes popping widely at the sudden loss of precious oxygen, staring in horror at their opponents. The fighting came to a standstill, the warriors watching as their common enemy buckled on themselves, fingers digging into their necks as they choked for even a morsel of a breath, but none came to them.

The other fledglings, whining in fear of the sudden turn of events, went ignored behind the fledgling bringing their enemy to their knees.

Her fingers clenched closed once more, as tightly as she could manage, and some of them fell over in unconsciousness from lack of oxygen.

Laylah stared at her in awed silence, not daring interrupt the precious moment, lest it fade from sight. She has been the caretaker of fledglings for as long as there had been little angels to tend to, and never before had she seen one with so much power at such a young age, it radiated from her wisping away from an unseen force, light from the tail of a comet shooting across the sky.

And just as soon as it was there, it was gone, dark replaced light, and Laylah hesitantly reached out with her free hand as the remaining demons struggled to their feet in an attempt to resume where they had left off and sighed in soft relief when her hand was not burned on contact.

"Come now!"

Finally, little Akeelah nodded, turning in her hold and following the rest of them towards the Heart Hall to wait out the completion of the wavering battle and the call of safety to ring through for them.

With the majority destroyed as they were, it was no hard matter to deal with the rest, still trying to recover from the shock as they attempted to attack once more. The stood staring at the ones who had fallen, choking for breath, digging sharply at their throats as though to force it down.

"What the heck was that?"

The Messenger voiced the thought on everyone's mind, watching as the Healer tended to their brothers pierced wing, he noticed the thoughtful and knowing look that crossed his captains features as he too stared at what was left of the first fallen ones.

"Zaves, you know what this is?"

Another interrupted him, a small Grigori, stepping forward from examining a lifeless body more closely.

"This is the vacuum of space. The complete loss of air. Nothing but space."

Kokabiel knew space rather well, it was his dominion, and he had witnessed the creation of the stars, aiding in some of their births. He looked the Archangel dead in the eye.

"The explosion that followed has not been seen since the creation of the galaxy. I do not know who did this, nor how, but it someone who needs to be watched more closely. They are more powerful then we can acknowledge without proper observation." He kicked over a burnt corpse, burnt to a dark crisp from the heat of a supernova, and he shook his head "We are only lucky they are on our side. Whoever this may be has the power of creation in their grasp. Creation and evidently destruction."


	136. Prove

**_Song listened to: 'Why'd you bring a shotgun to the party?' by The Pretty Reckless._**

"You must be the _Baby Power _I keep hearing all about."

Least to say, when the Powers inducted new people in their fold, it was a special occasion, and one wore their best robes. Not many got the honor of being included in such an elite force, and those who did were humbly excepting, most were humbly excepting of the offer.

It was also least to say that neither Paul nor Akeelah liked the newest inductee all too much.

Sorath thought he was better than most others, because of his quick climbing of the ranks during training, and them to be inducted into the fold of the Powers, he thought himself to be untouchable because of his quickly gained titles.

They both glared up at him, as he regarded them both from over the bridge of his nose, Paul had been polishing Nisroc's sword (a punishment befitting the crime of the trick played against him a few days ago that was taken in good humor) and Akeelah being the good friend that she was offered to join him despite it not being her chore and the day outside a sunny one. They had been joking between themselves when the other had entered into their mood and destroyed it from within.

"You're so small, _runt_. You could hardly stand against one of us."

"One of _who?"_

Paul tried to tell her not to get involved, let him spew what he was going to, and then take the matter to the elders later on. But Akeelah had never been known to back away from a challenge, not since the day that she had and her back now held the proof for all her life, and she stared the new Power in the face without a speck of fear.

"One of _us_, of course."

"You're not a _Power_.", she spat at him, fingers clenching around the spare rags she was holding onto for her friend at her side, "Powers' are _nice _and _kind _and _caring_. And all you care about is the _title_. It's just a name, but you'll never be one, not really."

Paul nearly fell back off the bench he was perched on, nearly pulling his friend down with him, when the older angel drew a blade on them. One of the finely crafted swords that all Powers had, like the one he had been cleaning, and Sorath glared at the fledgling with unfiltered rage.

"How _dare _you!", they scrambled over the other end of the bench, abandoning Nisroc's sword and the rags, stumbling back as the weapon was raised if practiced ease, _"__You're nothing but a coward, Choir Fledgling."_

His friend looked offended, as she should be at the insult, and he barely caught her as she tried to jet forward to take the offender head on. It was one thing to spar each other under a watchful eye, or to practice moves with another Power, but another all together to go up against someone who could very well play dirty. He caught her elbow and shook his head quickly when her eyes met his, tugging her back with him, he kicked the bucket of soapy liquid over in the others advance and ran for the exit.

"You should have finished hours-What's going on here?"

Sorath faltered, hastily putting his weapon away, as his two offenders hid behind the legs of his Captain. Nisroc was not an easy angel to anger but looking down to the two small heads poking out from behind his legs, he looked up with a flame burning in his hazel eyes as he set his hands on their heads.

"Sorath, that was a question."

"I—I—nothing sir."

The Power Captains eyes narrowed slightly, "Do you take me as a fool?", the other was quick in shaking his head, ignoring the smug gaze looking up at him from behind the elder's right leg, "I saw your advance." He pulled the two of them closer, slightly more behind him, "I gift you a position among us, _I _was the one who gave the recommendation to our Commander despite your disposition, _assured _that it would be something we worked from you, and I come to you coming after _my _youngling and _my _fledgling in thanks for my _kindness_?"

"Sir—I—I—"

He advanced on him, stepping forward into the armory, looking to his sword that lay forgotten on the floor. He scratched lightly at young Paul's head, the boy turning to look up at him, and he gestured to his sword. The youngling nodded, scurrying forward as he was silently ordered to, and gave the other a wide berth as he collected the sword that all his cleaning had gone to waste on, before returning to the Captain's side. Nisroc's hand reached for his sword from his young grip, pushing him back around with his arm, fingers gripped at the back of his leg a moment later as he turned his attention to the new inductee.

Sorath shook in fear, no one wanted to be on the other end of the Captain when he was in a foul mood, let alone if you were the cause of such a mood.

"They are _here_ on _my_ command. Young Paul is _mine_. I am his _guardian _thus giving him every right to be here. Little Akeelah is _mine_. She was here long before you were and will be long _after._", he pointed his sword at the new Power, "We have _no _qualms in banishing those from within. _None_. If I _ever _see you raise your weapon to another young one, you will _pray _that I go to the Commander about the matter, _do I make myself clear_?"

"I—Sir—Yes, Sir."

"Good. You will meet me here at 0500. We will begin one on one at that time. Don't be late."

Sorath nodded, looking incredibly nervous at the thought that he was going to be up against the famed Captain, on his own device.

"Dismissed."

He pulled them away from the door as the younger ran out, like a hound with its tail between its hind legs, he was quick in disappearing from their sight and would most certainly be gone for the rest of the night despite their festivities at the joyous occasion.

Nisroc left them standing there as he stepped forward to tuck the sword back into the sheath, resting it on his shoulder as he guided them out of the armory and shut the door behind him. They walked at his side silently as they made their way back towards the glowing Pavilion above them.

"Really?"

Paul was the one to break the silence, looking up to his captain with wide eyes, and both turned to look at him after voicing his inquiry into the silent hall.

"Really, what?"

"You said I was yours. That you were my guardian.", it was sad at how hopeful he looked, and they stopped their trek for a moment for the Power to look down at him entirely, "Were you being for real?"

"Indeed." he smiled and pat his cheek fondly "I talked to Father on the matter yesterday, the reason I sent you and your little troublemaking friend to see Joshua, I took the oath yesterday evening. You are now _officially_ mine. And if I _ever _manage to find myself alone with that mindbreaker you were given to before, it will be slow and painful before she meets the end of my sword." Paul smiled up at him, a rare occurrence, but becoming more freely seen with more time they spent together and hugged his leg tightly "Thank you."

"Of course. Someone has to keep the two of you in line. Might as well be someone you know."

A warm hand settled on his head and they stood there for a long moment, before turning to make to their trek. They ended up a pace behind him, not out of hearing range, and Akeelah side hugged her friend in congratulations.

"This is so great, Paul! You can be happy again."

"Yea. This is really good night."

They chattered softly for the rest of the walk along the path towards the Pavilion just ahead and a pace ahead of them, Nisroc lowered his head slightly, adjusted his grip on his long sword, and smiled.


	137. Help

**_Song listened to: 'Hard Love' by NEEDTOBREATHE Ft. Andra Day._**

The day he chose to go for help, at long last seeking the tending that needed to be done to make him whole again, the little fledgling didn't stray from his side through the entirety of it. She had learned of it through the grapevine she was so in-tuned to and come to see about its truth. Her hand had slipped into his when he had given the confirmation and she had walked with him through the Axis as they approached the Infirmary together. They stood at the bottom of the steps for a long moment, ignoring the feeling of surprised eyes on their backs from those passing by, Jeremiah hadn't been seen among them for some time, not after the war and the toll that had been paid.

She squeezed his fingers encouragingly and he turned to look down at her for a moment, and she smiled up at him. He returned the gesture, both the smile and giving her fingers a light squeeze and took a deep breath as he stepped up on the first step.

He hadn't been whole for such a long time, there were nights where the pain was just too much to sleep, and as much as he would withhold it from the knowledge of others; he did miss flying too. Being grounded was never meant for how angels were supposed to live, they were to go where the wind took them, literally in some sense of the word. And to not have the ability to made you lesser in another sense, something was missing, you were only half of yourself.

The first step soon turned to the second, and before he could blink, they were nearly halfway there, and then he did, and they stood at the top. The Healer himself waited for them in the entrance, hands clasped before him, having heard on the same grapevine the rumors of the Choir Elder coming to seek aid in recovering what had been so cruelly taken from him. Little Akeelah had been very tight lipped on the matter, but he has known her long enough to know her tells, even when she thought she was being secretive. He watched their approach silently, smiling in greeting, and felt relief wash over him when the other smiled back in kind. Jeremiah was a gentle soul, loved with all his heart, and forgave just as quickly as their little fledgling did.

It was a wonder on who taught who that trait.

"You came."

The younger angel nodded his head slightly, something more akin to the dip of a chin, and tugged lightly on his old charge's arm.

"I was told it was time."

He gestured for the two of them to follow, and they did so dutifully, as he led them through the crowds. Other healers, and patients alike, turned to watch the Choir Elder walk passed them as he followed after the Archangel with the fledgling at his side. The whispered among each other, wounded to those in the beds next to them, healers to their patients they were tending to, in suspicion as to why he was here with them today.

Raphael led them to a bed further away from the prying eyes of those outside their private trio, and he pulled the curtain around to block out their curious looks, sending those tending to the others a look to return to their task at hand as he covered them for privacy.

He turned to face them, gesturing for the Elder to sit on the bed and make himself comfortable, the little fledgling followed him dutifully. She may have been moved from under his care to the archs, but that didn't mean she wouldn't still stand at his side, especially through this. "What brings you to me?"

Jeremiah took a deep breath, as though preparing himself for what was to come, and nodded for them all to see.

"I came in hopes that you could help."

"I see," the Healer pulled a chair around for him to sit on, folding his long fingers over his knees patently, his emerald robes rustling as he did "And what can I do for you?"

Jeremiah looked down, as though shamed by his predicament, "My wings were clipped. I cannot fly."

It had been another rumor that made its way to his ears during the dreadful war, of those sent to the prisons, the guards 'clipping' their wings to keep them from attempting an escape. 'Clipping' ones wings involved the cruel task of pulling the primary feathers from their wings, rubbing wax onto the bald spots, and ensuring the prevention of allowing the primaries to regrow once more. It was a task meant to paralyze them, and it worked better then intended, one could fly as far as they wished, but with their wings 'clipped' their only hope of escaping was outrunning the guards and even then, on the top of other torturous injuries that were inflicted. It was a surprise to him that Jeremiah had faced horrors unknown and still came out as kind as he had.

It was truly awe inspiring and could clearly see just who had raised their dear fledgling before them. Jeremiah still sought out the best in people even after they sought to harm him in cruel fashion.

"I see. I am sorry. You should not have had that happen to you.", the Healer looked down in shame, missing the look sent his way by the elder, "In our blindness we allowed many tragedies to happen."

A warm hand gripped at his, and the archangel looked up into the bright eyes of the Choir Elder once more, Jeremiah smiled at him kindly, "There is no blame on you, brother, we are not perfect beings and faults are going to happen." Raphael was blown away by his compassion, he was truly one of the best of them, "It is a lesson to remember so that we may all live better days. To not let our past become our future."

He turned his hand in the others grip, nimble fingers curling around his in turn, and gripped them just as hard as he gripped his own.

"You are truly one of the best of us." He rose from his chair slowly, "Let me see what I can do?"

Jeremiah nodded in turn, slowly removing his top at the soft command from the elder angel, fingers shaking slightly as they undid every button. It had been some time since he had last seen his own wings, he had kept them hidden away after his time in the prisons, not daring see something that he knew he could not recover from. Not without the aid of someone who was thought to be too far out of reach. Little Akeelah jumped down from the bed, finally releasing her grip on his sleeve, as he slowly but surely undressed from the waist up. The Healer guided him to turn, nearly laying belly down on the bed, and stood over his head, leaning over his shoulders.

"I am going to release your wings."

He waited until his patient gave him a nod of consent, making a semi complicated hand gesture over the shoulders, and released the wings from where they were kept on the metaphysical plain when not in use. The urge to gasp at the sight of them was something he bit back with great difficulty, as his eyes slowly roamed over the injured appendages, taking them in for all that they were worth. It was something he wanted to commit to memory, something he wanted to remember even in the darkest of moments, the consequences of clouded judgement.

Jeremiah peered over his shoulder, eyes dimming in shame at the sight of them, shamed that someone of an Archangels standing was seeing the damage wrought by the cruel hands of fate.

His wings were a shell of their former glory; the lower parts, where the primaries had been yanked free without a care was red and inflamed even after all this time, the guards were not healers, and thus did not know how to do so cleanly. Buts of feathers still poked free, the shafts of a few sticking out like pale twigs, the wax covering the infected skin was thick and charred as it had been hardened, excruciatingly for the ne unfortunate enough to be on the other end. Welts were hastily scabbed over on the parts the melted wax hardened and stretched. More then half of his secondaries were yanked free, some broken halfway down the shaft, others broken at the quill.

The Archangel closed his eyes for a moment, setting a hand on the Choir angel's back for a silent minute "I can fix this."

He nodded in certainty and stepped away for a moment to collect the tools he needed; oils and rags, lots and lots of rags, filling a basin with warm water and gathering up lavender soaps, brushes, lotions, a few razors, and bandages. He rolled his sleeves up, as he washed his hands in a second basin to begin his long task.

"First, we must get this wax off. Lay down fully, now, get comfortable, we will be here for a while."

The first set of rags were set in an empty basin, over a small warming flame, and coconut oil was soaked into the rags and warmed as he chipped away at the thick wax with a straight razor, removing chunks at a time, and peeling away layer upon layer, as one would peel an apple to eat.

Above them, the sun slowly travelled across the sky, moving them passed noon and into the afternoon, and by then he just managed to get the thick layers shaved down, a small pile formed around him and his stool as he worked fluidly over the one wing. Raphael peered at the angel for a moment, pausing in his work, watching the slight rise and fall of his shoulders as he lay there calmly and not feeling a thing being done to him. He reached for a rag dampened with warm coconut oil, and pressed it firmly to a portion, letting the warmth soften the wax, and the oil mix in to soften it more, and ease the burn as he peeled it off. The Archangel repeated a few more times, grimacing at the scabs he pulled up, that had managed to form mixed with the coating of wax. Jeremiah stiffened, the muscles in his arms tensing, but he didn't utter a sound to indicate the pain he felt as he stared back into the eyes of the fledgling perched on the bed in front of him.

Akeelah sat there, silent and resolute, holding his hands in her little ones, as though to offer as much comfort as she could just by being there and present.

The skin was raw once he removed the wax coating, and he was mindful as he reached for a pair of fancy looking clamps and used them to pull the free-standing quills free. He tugged on the feathers that remained, plucking the ones broken halfway down, and tenderly smoothing the ones that managed to remain where they lay. The Archangel reached next to a sponge in the basin of warm water, lathered it with lavender soap, and moved on to washing the inflamed skin with gentle circular strokes.

If it burned in any fashion, the Elder made no indication, whispering softly in distraction from it to the fledging that sat with him. Both of them whispering a song in time and he listened a closely as he could as he worked. Moving on from the raw skin of the 'clipped' primaries to the pulled secondaries, washing through them in turn, before reaching for a jar of moisturizing lotion and rubbed it into the pink flesh with gentle circular strokes. Jeremiah sighed softly, skipping a note in the tune they whispered, and he smiled slightly to himself. He brushed through the mangled and ruffled feathers above and carefully bound the wing in bandages, before moving onto the next.

Afternoon quickly turned to dusk, and still they remained, the setting sun revealing the sparkling stars, and a few healers made their way around to light the great torches on the walls.

Jeremiah had fallen into sleep at some point of his administrations, the fledgling curled up above his head, their hands clasped together even in slumber. But he worked on still, vowing to mend what he could, all that he could, in the day they had now.

Starting from the beginning again with the second wing, he shaved the thick layers away, adding a small pile of wax shavings to his vast collection under his feet, and met the final layers with rags of warm coconut oil. Next came the peeling, that thankfully didn't rouse him from his needed slumber, and then the washing with warm water and lavender soap. Washing away the oil and cleaning the welts with the same gentle stroke. He plucked the quills and unsalvageable feathers, rubbed in the lotion, and brushed through the upper parts, before binding the wing in similar fashion he did to the other.

Raphael smiled at their slumbering forms, draping a blanket over the Choir angels back with his wings carefully placed, and then followed with one for the fledgling. He took cleaned the mess around them silently, as to not run the possibility of rousing them from the grasp of the gentle caress of sleep and took up his vigil in the chair at his bedside once more.

The bandages would need to be changed in the next few hours and he would be the one to do it.


	138. Home

**_Song listened to: 'Home' by MGK ft X Ambassadors and Bebe Rexha_**

At the end of the day, when things got too much, she knew that she could return to the villa. They picked up on sullen mood just as soon as she stepped in the door, trying to think of something that could have turned their bright fledgling dull, but nothing came to mind.

It had been a warm day, they'd spent a majority of it in the Garden, playing games and snacking on the peaches she so loved to eat, despite the Healer's playful teasing.

She walked into their sitting room, where they lay lazily among the pillows and soft throws, chatting happily between one another. Their chatter falling silent as the fledgling sat silently next to her Choir Master and stared down at her hands. Sometimes one's day could just take a sudden turn, with nothing causing the affect, and it appeared that this was one of those times, and despite her sudden dour mood, she still giggled when her master poked her in the belly.

"What's got you in such a blue mood, rugrat?"

Akeelah smacked his hand away as he made to poke her again, and he raised his eyebrows in surprise and amusement, exchanging an amused look with his brothers.

"Where do I belong?"

They each raised an eyebrow at the question, from one so young, and exchanged another look. Gabriel tilted his head slightly to the side, quirking an eyebrow, as he took her in completely.

"Right here with us, nugget."

"I'm not a nugget."

"Oh yes you are, come'ere, we gotta turn that frown upside, you got a backwards smile there.", she yelped as he snagged her up, holding her up before the oldest archangel, Michael leaned over to peer at him from beside her and raised another eye brow, Gabriel gave him a mischievous grin, "Work your magic, big brother."

The Prince nodded seriously, taking the fledgling up into his own hands, holding her up above his head as he leaned back in the pillows behind him. They returned to their previous conversation, knowing that the elder had the problem handled for the moment, until he thought it time to pass her along to the next one. She whispered something down to him and he responded in kind with a sharp affirmative nod. Her giggling floated around them, bringing a light heartedness to their conversation, when the Prince played lightly with her sides, and then they stopped to watch them when her laughter rang out, as the Prince buried his face into her little belly. She pushed at his head, fingers curled deep in his hair, wiggling in his grip as he still held her up above his head, much stronger then he appeared to be, proving that looks could most certainly be deceiving.

He let up some minutes later, her face already reddened and eyes glistening like stars once more, and he whispered something up to her once more. She quickly shook her head, still giggling from the left-over nibbles, and crawled for the safety of her masters lap when she was finally set down.

The three of them turned expectantly to their older brother, "She did not know where her home was.", he smiled playfully at the giggly fledgling in his brothers arms, "I merely reaffirmed the fact that her home was here with us."

"Darn right it is!"


	139. Lie

**_Song listened to: 'I wanna get better' by ATC Ft. The Ready Set._**

_I'm Fine. _

When asked how one was doing, and the response was _I'm Fine_, it was known that the truth was quite the contrary. It was something that they heard more then they wanted, the falsity of _I'm Fine _to the inquiry of someone's wellbeing.

There was no telling where to begin, as they weren't sure what was worse, what needed tending to first before all others. They had gone to Father and Aunt on the matter and They said to start at the very beginning.

So, they gathered the remaining fledglings and younglings in the Council Chamber, with their respective guardians, and they all sat curiously around the vast table in various perched positions.

The Healer looked the young ones over with worry, something that was open for all to see, and hummed sadly at the things that they had undoubtedly been sent to during _their _war. Poor fledglings who never had the chance to run around and play as fledglings should, and now were trying to live a life they didn't know, despite the help their guardians tried to provide.

"How are you, little ones?"

One shrugged, Akeelah had called him Jezaniah, from Jeremiah's knee, "We're fine.", Hazel was at his side and gave a sad little sigh as if to say something to the contrary. It was awkward, the young ones having heard stories of what happened to those called before the Council remained frightfully silent, even young Paul, who had regular conversation with Michael the Archangel during training while walking with Nisroc on his own days off as the Power surveyed the others.

Little Akeelah was staring at him, from her perch on the Choir Master's knee, and he shook his head minutely. They could take care of themselves, they always had, and couldn't rely on others to do so for them. One had to be strong to survive through what they did, it was a lesson learned really quick, and they refused to learn it again.

"I get scared.", the young fledgling looked away from her friend, averting her eyes at her admission, if no one else would start this meeting then she would take it upon herself to do so, "At nighttime. 'specially when it's storming. That's why I sleep with Luci cause if he's there then nothin' can get me."

Paul watched her for a long minute, at her confession, and nodded in turn from Nisroc's left "I have holes in my memory. I always hum under my breath because it hides the whirling sound of the drill echoing in my head.", the Power squeezed his shoulder lightly in comfort.

Jezaniah watched them silently, looking between the both of them as they made their admittance to their faults, and he looked down at the Elder's hands crossed in his lap "I don' like small spaces cause it reminds me of the room the mindbreaker kept me in." Jeremiah took a deep breath and Hazel jumped around at his admission, clearly neither knew of his secrets.

Another fledging, Raziel, raised his knee from Purah's lap, "Sometimes I cry when I see the Powers because they carry big swords and Theo cut me really bad when he caught me sneaky some ambrosia from the Infirmary."

"Sometimes I hide in the garden because I don't want no one to find me and take me back to the mindbreaker."

"I don't like thunderstorms cause it reminds me of the day that the Choir Master was shoved into the Abyss."

"I don't like going to the Infirmary 'cause I'm scared that I'll be sent back to the mindbreaker for fixing."

Michael closed his eyes for a moment, ducking his head, once the admissions came to a standstill. After a moment passed, he looked back up at them with sorrowful eyes, and he pulled an object hidden from view by a cloth to the front of him. He lifted the cloth away revealing the only remaining crown of spikes from the mindbreaker's workshop, and they all stared at the crown with wide eyes "How many of you know what this is?"

Seven hands raised in the air.

"How many of you know what it does?"

Seven hands raised in the air.

"How many of you almost wore it."

Seven hands raised in the air.

Hazel was crying from Jeremiah's side, softly into her hand, tears streaming down her face.

Nisroc had his face buried in his hands.

"How many of you don't think you're '_fine'?"_

Hesitantly, seven hands raised in the air.


	140. Prison

**_Song listened to: 'Bend till I break' by Maria Mena._**

With his young charge thoroughly distracted in the garden playing a game of hide-n-seek with the Baby Power, Nisroc was given permission for this visit, so long as he promised to leave his sword in his room. He was given explicit orders to make sure his visit was weaponless, so much so that he stripped out of his armor, stepping down into the bowels in the prison with nothing echoing around but the thunk of his boots with every step he took.

The guard posted at the cell he stopped at, cell _639_, saluted him and stepped aside to allow him a semblance of privacy.

A being sat in the corner of the cell, ankles shackled together, fastened to the wall with a thick chain. They were stripped of their robes, dressed in the gray tunic and trousers that all prisoners wore.

"The Captain of the Powers." The voice was soft, deceivingly gentle, as it was known to torture even those as young as fledglings, "Come to visit me?"

She stepped out into the light of the hall; Naomi looked a bit worse for wear, prison life was doing her no favors, she was pale and had bags under her eyes stained a dark purple. He pulled his hidden package out from the inner side of his belt, and tossed it into the cell, she bent to pick it up, her eyes going wide when it revealed the crown of spikes he had taken from his commander's office.

"I thought you might want a reminder of home, mindbreaker."

Naomi sneered at the nickname, fingers curling around the metal band of the instrument he threw into her, but Nisroc was unphased. He turned a look on the guard, who nodded, and turned to them, his back facing them for a moment. The Power took his opportunity and stepped forward, reaching through the bars of the cell, and grabbed her by the neck. She choked for a breath as she was pulled forward, chains rattling heavily against the stone flooring, "I could rip your throat out and no one would mind, _mindbreaker."_

"How….is…. that…. worthless…brat?..."

He growled darkly and tightened his grip, no one would hear them, the guard would do nothing to step in, and if asked later he could deny it all with being distracted at the time of the occurrence.

"_He _is _flourishing."_

He dragged her closer to the bars and her eyes widened in fear when the guard didn't so much as twitch around.

"He is a wonderful boy. Though I doubt you would know. He makes me damn _proud _to be his guardian."

The Power stood at least two and a half, maybe three, heads taller than the mindbreaker, and he lifted her off her feet until she could do nothing more but kick for even the slightly purchase under her.

"He has true _talent_. One of the biggest hearts I've ever seen. Grown beyond his years but still _so_ young."

She scratched weakly at his wrist, but he didn't so much as flinch. He didn't need weapons to be a threat. You didn't become Captain of the Powers by relying on just one thing.

"You should hear him _laugh _when you give that belly some attention, it lights up the entire room, his _smile_ is contagious."

Naomi struggled weakly for the floor underneath her, but he knew she heard him, she had always been good at multitasking in the most stressful of situations.

"You _hurt _him so horribly. But he has come back from it s_tronger _than you can even imagine."

Nisroc dropped her in a heap, gasping and coughing for a breath, and he knelt before her on the other side of the bars.

"He has _beaten _you, mindbreaker, he will learn to _forget you_, and you, _you, _will die here surrounded by nothing but darkness and your own broken mind."


	141. Protect

**_Song listened to: 'Stars' by Skillet._**

He rocked the little fledgling in His arms as He walked through the Garden guided by the shine of the stars above, wrapping her in His cloak when she shivered against the cool breeze, with His four sons away on a mission of their own, and unwilling to leave their charge to her lonesome, He had assured them that she would be well watched over.

He hummed a soft lullaby under His breath as He walked, swaying like the trees did in the breeze, when she stirred slightly, and He smiled to Himself when she calmed back into sleep again. He had not walked with a sleeping fledgling in His arms since His Messenger had been this small, humming gentle lullabies, cradling them to His chest warmly.

He used to do such things with His Archangels, when they were all younger of course, when it had been just Them and His four children. Sister used to walk with them, and now She did again, watching as He lulled the young ones to sleep. When He'd created Lucifer, Sister would carry the little bundle that was the Morningstar around as He Himself carried the Prince of His world yet to be created.

"…. Mmm…. Daddy?"

"I am here, My little angel, go back to sleep now."

"Jus' checkin'."

He smiled and rocked His arms a bit more, listening as her breaths slowly but surely evened out again, her little fingers curling around the front of His robe as she drifted back off.

When He'd created Raphael and Gabriel, the first two had been old enough to sleep without being carried around, tucked secure and warm in a soft patch of grass upon a soft blanket.

Much like He did now with this little angel.

He smiled down at her as she slept unaware, "My little star. You will one day become the one creating worlds.", He rocked her from side to side "Galaxies come from your hands, you shine brighter then the brightest star, nearly as bright as your beloved master." She sighed contentedly and kneaded like a warm little kitten does when safe and sound "You will hold the stars one day, when you're older of course, just as I created you to." He smiled down at the first fledgling He'd rocked to sleep in His arms since before the dawn of mankind, as she slept blissfully unaware, "You will surpass us all. Mine Sister and I's greatest masterpiece."

He continued on His way, falling silent to listen to the chirping of the crickets and the breeze dance through the trees, returning to the lullaby He had been humming under His breath and still the fledgling in His arms slept on.


	142. Race

**_Song listened to: 'WALKING ON WATER' by NEEDTPBREATHE_**

It took the Choir Master some time to gather up the Choir once more and get them to preform their music for all of Heaven again, and on the day he did, everyone stopped what they were doing to listen.

The Warriors gathered at the edge of the training field, a hushed silence having fallen over them, as they watched with their archangel as the Choir stepped up to the front of their Pantheon.

The Healers took a moment of time, standing at the side of their Archangel, as they watched them gather together again for all to witness, waiting on bated breath to see what would happen next.

The Messengers came to a standstill, to watch from their Archangel's side, as the Choir Master came to rest at their side, making a gesture with his hand to them.

Even Father and Aunt stepped out of the Throne Room to witness the day that the legendary Choir finally lifted their silent veil again.

They stood nervously, feeling the attention of them all, clearly fighting the urge to turn back and hide within their Pantheon once more. One stepped forward, one they all recognized, Jeremiah stood apart from them all and began their rhythmic tune. A little fledgling followed after him, taking hold of his hand, and he looked down to them as they synchronized to each other, another followed suit. Another not as young as the fledgling, but not too much older, took his other hand. And slowly but surely others followed, joining in, until their voices echoed through the silent streets of Heaven, as their audience watched in captivated silence.


	143. Trouble

**_Song listened to: 'The Enemy' by Of Verona._**

When she had come to help him again, on the typical Wednesday afternoon, hopping over into the grand Infirmary, to see him with another fledgling on his hip, she slowly hopped to a stop.

The Archangel still turned though, smiling to her in greeting, "Hello, little bear."

"Hi Rapha…What's he doin?"

She did not like Adonis, not after he had gotten her in trouble for taking the book that had been blamed on her, and she's missed out on a whole day of playing because of it, she knew from then on that they would never be friends. Never.

"He is going to help us today."

Akeelah crossed her arms petulantly and he raised an eyebrow in warning "_Why?"_

"Because he asked to."

He set the other fledgling on his feet, Adonis hid slightly behind his leg and stared at the other fledgling with wide eyes, he chuckled and rested a hand on his curly head.

"It is alright. Why don't you and little Akeelah go help Oren?"

Adonis looked unsure but nodded, and stepped out from behind his leg, Akeelah looked unimpressed though.

"I'm not helping with _him."_

The archangel heaved a sigh and knelt, "Little Akeelah, you can help Oren with him, or you can return to the Villa, which ever you prefer." She grumbled under her breath some words that had him narrowing his eyes, and she turned to stalk over to Oren, seeing as she didn't want to be along at the Villas today. He watched her go with narrowed eyes, but let the whispered words go, for the moment, as he knew she was still sore about being put in time out despite not having earned it.

That time, at least.

They worked together silently, Akeelah in no mood to talk to the one who had gotten her in trouble, both helping Oren tend to patient that had come back with a wounded wing from the latest siege. She saw him wonder off, from the corner of her eyes, and turned to watch him sneak into the Healers office. Hoping down from the chair she had taken she followed after him, peeking inside to see him reaching for the Healer's staff, "We're not supposed to touch that."

Adonis turned to look over his shoulder, "I just want to see it for a minute."

"But we're _not _supposed to touch it."

Adonis didn't listen to her though, and pulled the heavy staff away from the wall, but it as too heavy for him to hold up, and it crashed down into a cart with various jars and contents with a loud bang. The door to the office opened wide, the electric blue eyes of the Healer appearing there, having heard the crash from out in the Infirmary. "What Happened?" He saw the upturned cart, and his staff on the floor, and turned a look onto the two fledglings. Akeelah was silent, but the other one pointed, "She did it!"

She found her tongue then, turning to glare at him, "I did not!"

"I told her not to touch it, but she wouldn't listen!"

"No, you _didn't!"_

Raphael narrowed his eyes at the two of them, hating to take one side over the other, but she _was _standing closer to the spilt cart, and she had been in a bad mood with having to work with young Adonis. He stepped into the office, gesturing to a clear corner, "Go."

"But I _didn't! _He's trying to get me in trouble _again!_"

"Akeelah. I heard what you whispered, despite what you thought, go stand in the corner."

"No! I didn't _do _anything! He's _lying_!"

He bent to pick up his staff from the wreckage, and pointed again as he stood back up, giving her a stern look.

"If you do not go yourself, then I will place you there, and you do not want that."

She clenched her hands into tight fists, looking as though she was ready to turn and punch the other fledgling, resting on a hair trigger.

"_No! _I _didn't _do anything _wrong! You're not my guardian!"_, that last statement caught him in the heart, though not officially, they all stepped up as her guardians. It was something akin to a human child telling a stepparent that they weren't their real parent. "I don't have to _listen _to you!" she turned and ran from his office, but he didn't make chase.

When he returned at the end of the day, the truth having been revealed to him not long after her leaving, as he tended to the burns on the young boys hands from touching his staff, he couldn't help but feel the knife twist slightly in his heart. Once again, she had been telling the truth, and he hadn't believed her.

The others were already sitting around their table, talking amiably amongst each other, little Akeelah sitting in her usual spot. He smiled slightly, taking that as his hope, but was quickly crushed when she spotted him and moved, instead to sit on her Choir Master's knee. From him he gained a scathing look, as her actual guardian, Lucifer did not take kindly to anyone treating his charge unjustly and that it exactly what he'd done.

"So, _Raphael_, how was your day?"

He held back a flinch at his tone, knowing it was warranted, and nodded in acknowledgement to the hidden inquiry behind the frigid words.

"Because _my _charge seemed to have a pretty interesting one. How many times has that boy lied to you and yet you blame the wrongdoing on _my _charge?"

He bit back a flinch once more, "Twice."

"_Twice? _Goodness me. I would have thought you would have been more _receptive_ to it."

"It was an accident."

_"__No."_ the others looked at him in surprise at the snarl, his hand clapping loudly on the table as he smacked it down, and he did flinch this time "_Once _is an accident. _Twice _is _negligence_. She will not be helping you in the Infirmary anymore. Not if you continue to be so quick to assume her responsible for any wrongdoing committed."

The Healer nodded, knowing that it was the least he deserved, and bid her an apology with a mere look but she avoided his eyes and his heart sank even lower. Saying nothing more, not as the Morningstar bid them all a good night and left them, not as Michael sent him a saddened look, not as Gabriel glared.

His older brother was right after all.


	144. Worry

**_Song listened to: 'Unconditionally' by Katy Perry._**

"I love you, Micha."

He looked up from the papers he had been working on for the last hour, his office illuminated by the glowing of lanterns and the stars above, his eyes wide as he stared at the form of the fledgling that had refused to be at his side for nearly a month and a half. It was the least he deserved because of his treatment and intentions on that fateful day he had so cruelly lost his temper on the innocent little thing who had merely asked a soft question.

She never strayed too far from her master's side, and he saw no end to the affect, but as he watched her stand there nervously, twisting the sleeve of her top in her little fingers he saw no shadow to indicate that she had come with another. She had come alone, called out to him in the soft way someone did when unsure of themselves or the situation they faced, and stared up at him with saddened alert eyes.

"And, I love you."

Being the oldest, he was not often given the love that others showed one another, of course he knew his siblings cared for him. But sometimes he feared it was merely as their protector than as their older brother. But this little loved him for him being himself, as a person and not a weapon, and he would be honest in saying he had taken it for granted once he'd gained it. To lose the love she gave was like losing the warmth one had in the coldest of winters.

His hand fell, the writing utensil forgotten as he watched her to see what she did next. Leave him to his thoughts again, perhaps? Stay to keep him from becoming the prisoner of his own thoughts once more? But she didn't move, not in the way to leave, or to come closer, she watched him like an animal watches another after being struck so suddenly without cause.

"I know you didn't mean it."

He nodded, resting his arms on the desk tiredly, staring right back into her shining eyes. She forgave him even after what he had done to her. Even after his cruel attack. The unwarranted dressing down that had separated her from his side for so long. But the forgiveness did nothing to quench the fear. It had stopped his heart when he saw it back in the garden that month and a half ago, the fear in her twinkling eyes that _he _had put there, and he withdrew from the others lest he harm them too.

"I miss you, Micha."

"I miss you too, little one."

She nodded this time, looking down to her feet silently for a moment, rolling a question around in her mind and he waited patiently for her to find her voice, if she ever would. A moment passed and little Akeelah looked back up at him for wide eyes.

"Can I sit with you?"

Michael didn't utter a word, he pushed himself to the side in his chair, and raised his hands to her. There was only a moment of hesitation, as she parted from the doorway and stepped around his desk to allow him to lift her into his lap. Her bright eyes looked up at him with determination.

"I love you, Micha. Always. Please don't do that again. I miss being with you."

He would never tell her of the heart ache, as he knew he deserved it for his actions, but it warmed him to know that he was still accepted.

"I cannot promise something I cannot control. But I promise to never expose that side to _you _again."

She nodded, curling slightly into his chest, fingers curling around his loosely. Akeelah was smart beyond her years, perhaps a token given by the war she lived through most of her lifetime, and she knew the sincerity that came in his voice was real. She also knew that some had bad days, along with their good, and even the most powerful among them were prone to have them too. It was not something someone should be faulted for. But that didn't mean it didn't frighten her when she witnessed it.

"I love you, Micha. I missed you."

"And, I love you, with all my heart. I have missed being with you more then you will ever know.", he turned them back to face the treatise he was reading through and reached for his writing utensil once more, one arm curling around her waist securely "Help me with these treatises?"

"Yea, I'll help."


	145. Risk

**_AN: Imma update more tmo, but I got a doctors appointment in the morning and want to get some decent sleep because I don't typically wake up until the afternoon before I have to go to work. _**

**_ANN: Just cause I don't say it too much, not too good at leaving notes lol, but I really love everyone who fav'd and followed, and a very special shout out to my two doods (or doodettes lol) cutecookielove and Robin0203 for leaving a comment on EVERY chapter. You guys are my life force man! I love that you like my work enough to comment, like for realsies! You guys stay awesome!_**

**_ANNN: Cutecookielove, you are right frand, we need more Paul and Nisroc fluff! I got you down frand! This is for you!_**

**_Song listened to: 'Great Night' by NEEDTOBREATHE Ft. Shovels & Rope_**

Haniel laughed outright at the sight of their barefoot Captain, the others were a bit more reserved in showing their amusement, hiding their laughter behind their hands instead, and Nisroc sent the other a lighthearted glare as he crossed his arms.

"Has anyone seen my boots?"

They shook their heads from their various positions, and he heaved a sigh as he shook his head, there was only one who had a habit of stealing his things, all in good fun of course, but they weren't here at the moment. The Messenger had taken the little fledgling down to Earth to see the butterflies she had created with the help of their Father.

But that didn't mean she didn't steal them before she left, one could never be too sure when it came to that tricky little thing, and he rubbed a hand over his temple as he sighed again.

Titus took pity on him, "Perhaps her young friend knows where they may be." He nodded in time with that suggestion, her and his charge had become close friends, perhaps not as close as she was to the messenger, but a close second. They were always getting into mischief together, whether it be a trick or a competition, they were always planning, and enacting said plans to those who they chose seemingly at random. It wouldn't surprise him if they had a method to their madness.

"Where is he today?"

"Last I heard he was spending the afternoon in the Garden, though he may be on his way back, I'm not sure where he may be at the moment between here or there."

He nodded in thanks, turning on his heel, and stalked to the stairs that led down to the field from their Pavilion. Haniel waited until his back disappeared from view before turning to share a smile with Abraxos "Those two _did _take his boots. I saw them running across the field this morning."

"I pity him then, Nisroc is not known to be merciful, may Father grant him luck."

Nisroc ignored the odd looks he gained as he walked barefoot down the Axis, it was hardly a new sight to witness, their Baby Power was quite known to steal their things and hide them away, and they had become well adept in pulling the information of their whereabouts from stubborn young angels.

He was quick in spotting his young charge walking his way, distracted as he stared at the stones he stepped on, trying to do so without stepped on the cracks around the rectangular bricks. Nisroc used the distraction to his advantage, not breaking his stride, when he bent forward and snagged the young angel up over his shoulder. Paul yelped at the sudden change of position, fingers curling instinctively in the back of the Power's tunic and pressed into his back as though to sit up straight again. He watched the stones move passed him as they walked towards an unknown destination, thankful for the arm that had curled securely around his waist, and the hand that had curled around his left ankle. The sight of the bare feet brought a smile to his face, and though the Power couldn't see it, he _knew _that it was there. Sneaky little things that they were, he was happy that the two of his favorite young ones got along, but sometimes regretted pushing it, like in the situation he found himself in now. Completely barefoot.

Paul's eyes widened as the stone turned to green grass and lifted himself up to wave at the Gardener as they passed, Joshua smiled and returned the gesture. They walked into the trees, farther then most went, to the same clearing that only they played in, and then arm around his waist adjusted slightly, moving along his spine, to cradle the back of his head, as the other arm curled around the back of his thighs. The Power leaned forward and he fell backwards, caught only by the arms wrapped securely around him, and grinned up at his guardian as he was quickly righted in position.

"Hey Nis!"

"Hello, little warrior, I will only ask this only once.", the Power knelt slowly, eyes never straying from the younglings, leaning down to set him in the soft grass under them "Where are my boots?"

The youngling smiled cheekily up at him, so much progress had been made since they had come together, and it had become harder and harder for the Power to understand how someone could do wrong to someone as bright as the youngling he now had under his charge. Paul reminded him much of little Akeelah, they had similar personalities in many ways, and under that rage they were working on was a playful side that had surprised him upon discovery.

"I can't remember."

He smiled, perhaps he had a small part of him that hoped the boy would say that, things had been chaotic as of late, more and more missions to the underworld, aiding in skirmishes that arose in the ancient worlds when the Healer had requested their aid when he was called in by his Egyptian charge: Anubis when a skirmish got too out of hand, there had not been much time to spare for him to spend alone time with his charge which left them only able to see each other during training and before bed.

Nisroc smiled at the boy as he slowly lowered himself, his chest pressing the little legs under him down securely, and young fingers curled around his shoulders as he came to rest on his elbows over the boys shaking belly, his arms outstretch alongside him. He hadn't even touched the young one under his mercy and already he struggled to free himself "Shall I help you remember then?"

"Nope, that's okay, somethings are better left forgotten."

"True, but remembering this would be better suited for your favor."

He dug a few fingers in the boy's exposed underarms, and his laughter rolled around them, carried through the trees by the soft dance of the breeze. His small arms shot down immediately, fingers quickly uncurled from his shoulders, and he arched slightly when the elder found a particularly sensitive spot.

"Have no fear though, as Captain of the Powers, I am quite adept in gathering desired information from those who stubbornly withhold it from me."

Paul laughed, arching his back when those evil fingers dug in slightly, and curled his arms around his midsection as he tried to block the cruel attack. The fingers lowered, as if to find the fault in his attempt at protection and spread to curl around the side of his rib cage. He shrieked in his bright laughter, trying to stave off the attack by lowering his arms again, but the fingers merely wiggled in again and he arched in giggly agony.

"I know you know where they would be. Have mercy on yourself, little one, I have spent enough time with you to know all the right buttons to push. Just tell me your secret and I promise to have mercy on you."

The young boy shook his head, laughing all the while, and looked up at him with shining eyes. He smiled at him as their gazes met, leaning forward as he dug into a spot he knew to be rather fun to torture, chuckling to himself when the boy jumped as best as he could from his trapped position, fingers curled around his as he kneaded deeply into the boys sides. Nisroc had been raised since fledglinghood by Michael, he knew how to torture young angels, having learned from the oldest archangel from such a young age.

"We will break through that stubbornness."

Paul cried out when his hands easily evaded the boys and slid up under his shirt, fingers dipping back into his underarms again, "NIS! Stohohop!"

"All you must do is tell me where you stashed my boots, then I'll stop, I promise you."

"I c_ahahahan't! _I swohohore I _wohohouldn't!"_

"Well then you'd best get comfortable, I've got all day to spend with you, and you're not going anywhere until you reveal your secret." The Captain's young charge shrieked again, jumping in place, when his fingers curled around his ribs again "I'll be merciful just this once, because I am so fond of you, I'll give you a minute to tell me where you hid my boots or I'll be forced to take drastic measures against that belly of yours."

Paul was still giggling as he let up for his proclaimed minutes, his blue eyes sparkling like fresh fallen raindrops on the petals of colorful spring flowers, and he smiled at the appearance he got to witness all on his own. Despite being tough and violent in battle, breaking through hordes at a records pace, the key to being the Captain of the Powers, a Power in _general_, was knowing when to live life and when to life in the heat of battle. Nisroc was not a hard angel, he was rather laid back compared to other warriors, and knew how to have a good time. It's what made him so favorable. And he adored the young ones, having a soft spot a mile long when it came to them, always ready to play games when they came to ask the legendary Mighty Captain. He hadn't taken a charge for eons, not since he'd taken guardianship of Balthazar all that time ago, and then the war happened, and they made it a silent law that Warriors would not take charges anymore. It was a weakness that couldn't be afforded, and even then, he had turned a blind eye to the young ones as they snuck around like young ones did, punishing any under his command with a harshness unseen should even a rumor make its way back to his ears that they had harmed a young one in any way.

Theo was the example he used, and he beaten him to a pulp when he'd learned of him whipping a fledgling, he had not known at the time that it had been their Baby Power and at the time it had not matter, all that did was the fact that he had _whipped _a young one. It had been a fury that those who knew him didn't know he had been capable of. And rather noticeably none of the others he commanded acted in such a way, though he doubted they ever would, being much like himself when it came to young ones, but none wanted to be on the other side of the fury the Captain had shown that day.

He had not had a charge in some time, and then this young angel came around, and he watched him from the very start, though never thinking they would end up in this position, but he knew he would change nothing about the arrangement. He adored the boy, and most everyone knew that, and Paul deserved to be treated like a child once in a while.

"Ok, ok, ok! They're under my bed!"

The Power smiled, "Thank you, little warrior." He pulled his hands out from under his shirt, curling his fingers around the hem of the small top, and began to pull it upwards to reveal the shaking belly surface to him, Paul giggled in pure anticipation. He held his hands out, as though that alone would stop the mighty Captain, "Waitwaitwait! You promised! _Nis! No!"_

He slowly lowered himself towards the shaking belly, smiling up at his young charge, Paul giggled harder at the playful gleam that shined in Nisroc's eyes, "Oh, I'm keeping my promise, I've stopped my torture for the whereabout of my boots, now I am merely catching up on time lost." He took the small hands in his own, lowering them to the grass as he looked down to the shaking pale belly.

"Where should I start first?"

_"__Nis! Dohohon't! Leheheheave it alohohone!"_

"Found it."


	146. Crazy

**_Song listened to: 'Youre such a' by Hailee Steinfeld_**

Akeelah was not a spiteful young fledgling, when she was angry at you, she ensured you knew it, but did not spite just to spite. There was always a reason for her anger, and she ensured that others knew this reason, and that perhaps, they respected her for.

Though sometimes it also got her into trouble.

Despite Nisroc having nipped the blackmailing in the butt immediately upon learning of it, the fledgling among them hadn't been so forgiving, and Donavon was still just as hot. Despite her secret being known by the Power Captain now, a secret that was not so bad to have been shared, far lighter then what he had feared it was, the boy seemed to think that young Akeelah owed him something.

Michael was discussing the newest recruits, any that had stuck out for advancement, with his Captain when the little voice called out over the warriors clashing together in mock engagements.

"You're such a _damn _ASS!"

Warriors whipped around at the voice, the language, and the two of them turned in the same direction at once. The others had converged on the arising altercation, and they broke through the gathered crowd to see Puriel standing between the three of them.

Little Akeelah was sitting in the dirt, her face was darkened in anger, clearly the one who had cursed so loudly for all to hear.

Before her stood young Paul, standing in a resting position, ready to fit off the offender to protect his friend, despite her claims that she could do it herself, glaring as if to dare the other to push her again.

And on the other side, sitting in a heap on the ground, was young Donavon. He was pressing both hands to his nose, red blood leaking through his fingers, and tears were gathering in his eyes.

"What is going on here?"

Michael cut through the crowd with ease, making to stand behind the youngling clutching his nose on the ground, and easily lifted him to his feet. Nisroc closed in behind the other two, effectively keeping them from making a break for it, should they try, but both knew they were too prideful to do so.

Akeelah glared from Paul's right, wiggling her nose at the other boy, "He called me a bad name."

"So, I punched him."

The two elders turned in surprise to the youngling standing in defense of his friend, Nisroc turned him slightly with a gentle grip to his shoulder "_You _punched him?"

"And I'd do it again!" he glared over his shoulder at Donavon, "It was a _really _nasty name."

Michael looked between the three of them, knowing of their history together, there was little that went on among the warriors, older and younger, that he didn't know about. He heaved a sigh and gave the two friends a particular look that meant it was exasperated with them "You two will wait in my office while I ensure this young one gets his nose mended." They nodded silently, glaring at the other youngster as they walked passed, and Michael stopped the fledgling with a hand grasping her little arm lightly, and he knelt "And if I ever hear you use such language again, I will ensure we wash it from your mouth. Am I clear on that matter?"

She winced, as though she knew the taste, and sometimes with just how smart her mouth could be, he was sure she did. But she nodded, taking Paul's hand at her side, and they scurried off, not looking back as he handed Donavon off to Puriel to be taken to the healers, both Commander and Captain watching the two friends disappear into the hall that lead to the Pavilion and the Archangel's office.

"I don't know what's more surprising, sir," Nisroc turned to him when they were out of sight, "The fact that my boy _punched _him or that she _let _him do it for her."


	147. Fault

**_Song listened to: 'Thunder' by Imagine Dragons_**

"ZAVERIEL YOU GET BACK HERE RIGHT NOW!"

Gabriel huffed and puffed coming to a stop in front of Michael's training field, the elder archangel chuckled softly as the soldiers whispered amusedly to themselves, stepping away from his amused Captains side to see to the younger Archangel's misfortune.

"Gabriel?' he managed to bite back his own chuckles "Having trouble with that little messenger of yours?"

He huffed again and flipped his older brother the bird. Like he didn't have enough problems on his hands with trying to reign in an overly energetic little shit of a messenger. He was always getting into trouble, some more deadly than others, and he was starting to become slightly annoyed.

Something had set the kid off today, there was something that had managed to get under his skin, and it had made him angry, and Zaveriel angry was not something Heaven was prepared for just yet. It had barely made it through him merely being ticked about an unfair order that had been given.

Before the Messenger, ignoring his amused older brother, jumped into the sky instead. Despite how fast his second was, there was no competition between them, he was still faster in flight.

Gabriel stopped an hour later scratching his head and looking around, trying to pin the troublesome youngling without having to fly all over hells half-acre again.

"Luci have you seen my Lieutenant?"

The blonde archangel exchanged a look with Michael at the question, shaking his head in tune with the other, crossing his arms slightly as he leaned forward. Hearing that the little messenger was missing was not news that normally made its way around. Below them, in the training field, the warriors in the front stopped their motions as they turned to whisper to one another.

Zaveriel was a special angel, outside of the hierarchy, starting out under the Healer's tutelage originally, and then choosing to be sorted into the Messenger's charge, and then fell under Michael during the war, he was an opponent that could hold his own against nearly anyone. And though he had a long-standing temper, it could still be boiled over, and with the skill he possessed it was in no ones favor for it to do so.

And his attitude and temperament made him a commonality among the other classes.

"No little brother, I have not seen the runt. Why?"

"He's mad."

Michael and Lucifer exchanged looks again as if trying to make sure that the other had heard the Messenger clearly, and when none made the move to say anything different on the matter, they turned back.

This was more worrisome then they had first assumed.

"He's mad?"

"Yep."

"About what, might we ask?"

Gabriel shrugged, "Hell if I know."

That only made them exchange looks again, there was not a lot that could set that particular angel off in a rage, even less that could send him off without anyone knowing. They each tried to think of something but there was nothing that was easy coming. Zaveriel was a mystery to all of them on the best of days, and a complete stranger on the worst, it could have been absolutely anything.

Lucifer hummed as he thought, trying his hardest to come up with something that might send him off like this, there was not many that Zaveriel was honestly close to; the only few who came to mind were Paul and little Akeelah, and perhaps a few others. As much of a commonality as he was among the others, he had few of what he considered friends, and even fewer of what he considered a close friend.

That's when it hit him.

"Gadreel. He's always been close to Gadreel."

Gabriel paled and turned to look up at his older brother, "Castiel and the Winchesters did some not so nice things to our dear Gatekeeper."

This had gone from bad to worse, if what had happened was what they were sure was happening, then this just went ten degrees south in a heartbeat. Zaveriel was a special kind of angel; he knew most of the herbs that could be used to poison someone without them having a chance to stay it, he was quick and agile, and had the fight in him that nearly all the Power's had in them. He was one to watch for when in a foul mood, and he had disappeared, slipped completely from the safety of their grasp.

Gadreel and Zaveriel had always been close, friends, the best of friends. They had met in the Infirmary and hit it off right away, despite one being a healer and the other a warrior, their differences only made their friendship stronger. Zaveriel was his most trusted friend and Gadreel was the others most valued.

They had always been close.

"You don't think...?"

"I wouldn't put it passed him. You remember how Zachariah was when he'd found out what he'd done to Joshua."

They exchanged looks one last time and took off in record speed in hopes of getting to them before he did.

Zaveriel was dangerous when in a good mood, but he was deadly when in a bad one, and Father was innately fond of those particular three that only He knew the reasons for.


	148. Hallucination

**_Song listened to: 'The Dark' by Beth Crowley_**

Being a fledgling, ones grace was not as close to call on as it was for those older in age, they were more human then angel while they grew. It was an odd arrangement, but too much power at such an inexperienced age, it could be detrimental to their own safety.

And with being nearly human, it meant that fledglings were more susceptible to catch a human ailment then the elders were.

So, when little Akeelah came to him complaining about her stomach hurting, he knew immediately to look for human illness than anything else first thing, it took him a bit more time then he had wanted, with their being so many human diseases to rule out, to diagnose their fledging with the human influenza.

Her fever had already been high when he'd brought her to the Infirmary to keep a closer eye on her while he tended about his duties as Healer, stopping frequently at her bedside to check on her temperature and wellbeing. It concerned him when it noticeably climbed, and silently stepped away to get a bowl of cool water and a cloth to dab at her temple with, little pearls of perspiration dotting her skin.

The sun quickly set, and Raphael didn't think it safe to move her, better suited to care for her where his supplies were on hand, then at their Villa, and sent word along to ensure the others knew of their whereabouts and were up to date on the situation at hand.

The Healer gathered a book and flicking candle lamp, taking up a vigil at her bedside, waiting to see if she would wake during the night. She slept soundly for a while, until she woke because of the difficulty of breathing through her stuffy little nose, and he rubbed some rather potent mixtures on her little chest, to clear her nose and make sleeping easier to accomplish and back under sleeps hold she fell.

Her fever reached it's peak around one thirty in the morning, as he turned the page of the novel he'd been reading silently, her hand moved and caught his attention. Marking the page and setting the book aside, he watched her closely as her eyes slowly opened, going wide in confusion, but noticeably stood out with how cloudy they were. The fever like a blanket over her mind, it left her in a volatile and confused state. "I don't want to be here." In a soft scratchy voice, she looked around fearfully, taking in the room she surely saw different then the one she was left in currently. "I don't like it here." She struggled weakly in the blankets she was wrapped in, seeing something other then what he saw, and her head turned in his direction "Let me out. I don't want to be here anymore." He waited silently, on the edge of his chair in the case that she hurt herself, and let the scene play out in the fever hazed way. "They're gonna come back. I didn' do nothin'. Please don't lock me in here. I don't wanna be alone." He wondered where he mind had taken her, when she spoke his answer "'Miah why did they lock us in here? I don't wanna be in the prison. It's scary and they make us all hurt."

"Little Akeelah?" He spoke out softly, her head darted around at his voice, and he frowned sadly when her eyes widened.

"No. No I don' wanna be taken. Please do let them take me."

"I promise." He leaned forward "You won't go anywhere. You are safe here."

"You protect me?"

She slowly managed to escape from her blankets, and crawled weakly to the edge of the bed, her face glistening from fever. He nodded, reaching out to pull her into his lap, letting her latch onto his front and try to hide away in the folds of his robes.

"I will protect you."

He reached to the side, for the cloth that lay resting over the edge of the bowl of cool water, rang it out in his clenched fist, and dabbed it against her heated little forehead.

"Close your eyes for me, fledgling, I will keep you safe."

Akeelah looked up at him, eyes still a bit glazed, and nodded tiredly "I know you will, Archangel, I'm happy you're here cause they won't hurt us with you here too." His heart clenched, making a mental note to discuss this with the others, they needed to know, and he pulled her closer "I will ensure you're safe, try to sleep little one, I will keep them away."

She nodded, taking one final sweep of the room, and laid her heated little head down against his chest, falling out completely in the next moment. He continued to dab at her temple, brushing a stray curl away from her eyes, knowing that when she woke next, her fever broken, that they would be braided back up again.

"I will protect you, now and forever, little one. I promise."

Her fever broke through the rest of the night, and she woke up cuddled close to the Healer, both of them laying in the bed she'd been placed in a few days previous, feeling a bit more better then she had the last couple days. She looked up into his sleeping face for a minute, smiled, and laid her head back on his chest.

Akeelah whispered, as to not wake him, "Thanks for protectin' me."

He hummed softly, adjusting and tightening his grip slightly, "You're…Welcome…Little one..."


	149. Defend

**_Song listened to: 'Speechless' by Naomi Scott_**

She stood slowly, rising from the ground with grace, clenching her fists at her sides as she turned to glare at the one opposing her with determination. Akeelah was strong, perhaps stronger then the other fledglings, and would never be known to have backed down from a challenge.

Castiel watched his young opponent wearily, having heard rumors of the power that was held under such young fingers, disbelieving that someone like her in her stature could be so much stronger then he. Him who had defied Heaven's archangels; who had locked the Prince and Morningstar back in the Cage in the Pit, he who had captured the Messenger and trapped in within a ring of holy fire, he who had killed the Healer with a snap of his fingers.

She was a mere fledgling, still so new to the world, unable to understand what needed to be done.

Behind her, letting the youth fight her own battles, but prepared to step in were the four Archangels. At their side stood the Captain of the Principalities and the Powers. Each watched as the fledgling stared up at him with hard, determined, eyes.

"You are wrong.", she shook her head, sharing her glare with the three of them as a whole, "So, so wrong. In so many ways."

"What could you possibly know?" Castiel waved a hand at her in dismissively "You are but a fledgling."

She pointed at her older friends behind her, "They _help _people." And the seraph shook his head flippantly "They are tyrants. They shouldn't have the power that they do. They are not fit for it."

"As opposed to _you?_" Akeelah did not take kindly to those who insulted her friends, and they were all hers, they cared for and protected her and she would damn well return the favor. Even if the words thrown at them did nothing more then amuse them, it angered her, and she was not known to keep her anger secret. "_You, _who nearly killed off an _entire_ _faction_ because they refused to stand behind you." She pointed a small accusatory finger at him harshly, "_You, _who would seek to kill us _all _if you little hairless _pets _asked you to."

"Hey!", Dean Winchester had to make his two cents known "These two pets saved the damn world!"

"No, you didn't, you fixed what you broke. None of that would have happened had you been strong enough. I _love_ my master, and I don't want to see him go away again, but you wouldn't have had to _'save' _the world if you hadn't _broken _it first." She threw her hands into the air "You make _great big _messes and expect everyone else to pick them up!" she pointed another finger at the seraph, "and you, _you're _the tyrant! So, stuck in what you think is right and wrong that you don't see the changes around you! No one _needs _you!" Zaveriel gave her a soft cheer from his place next to the Messenger, pumping his fist in the air in agreement, pointedly ignoring the pointed look his master shot his way "No one would _miss _you! And you turned your back on your _family- "_

"The Winchester's are my family."

"Then why do we _help _you!"

Her temper started getting the best of her, a glow started emanating from her fingers, and slowly began to climb down her arm as she allowed her grace to peek through. Castiel's eyes widened as he took a step back in confusion, fear mixing in when the room started to turn inward on itself, and the Winchesters began to cough.

Michael nodded to his Power, and he stepped forward, scooping his young friend up to cradle in his arms. The affect was instantaneous, the tension in the room released, as the fledgling was thoroughly distracted by the Mighty Captain whispering something in her ear and she giggled brightly as she reached up to poke him in the cheek. The beginning of a vacuum dropped out, the Winchesters coughing in breaths of air they had been losing, and Castiel stared at the fledgling thoughtfully.

Nisroc met his stare, thrusting his chin up to catch his attention, and pulled the fledgling in closer to himself, "Remember what I told you traitor. Those who stand to harm her, harm us all, and we are not ones to provoke. The fledgling is _ours_."

The four archangels nodded in agreement, sealing the others fate should he try and take her from them once more, the Council had convened in that moment and unanimously agreed on a ruling.


	150. Regret

**_Song listened to: 'Unsteady' by X Ambassadors_**

It was in those quite moments, when the night wore on, and the Morningstar lay sleeping soundly on his side, that she sat awake staring at the ceiling above them. Restless having taken over such a young person, her desire to fall asleep such as her master had, but her mind refusing to allow her to. It was those nights that she would crawl out from under his arm, tiptoeing out of the room as he rolled over and sighed, falling back to sleep again completely unaware, and she'd sneak down the hall passing by the other doors, and out of the door into the garden.

Guided by the pale moonlight, she'd walk alone down the empty Axis, stopping only a moment at the stone steps that led through the mountain wall of the training field, to be joined in her silence by her friend, and together they'd walk down the stone path.

Heaven was silent during the night hours, everyone tucked away in bed and sleeping peacefully, all but two, or sometimes three, and alone they walked down the empty street. They walked silently up the stone steps to the empty Heart Hall, walk up to the middle of the great room, and sit on the floor.

Not a word would be spoken, they would lay on the floor, and stare up at the ceiling above as it reflected the night sky above them.

Only, this time, they weren't completely alone.

This time, the Morningstar had felt her move from his side, and he'd woken up to see her turn the corner out of his room, and this time he followed her instead of rolling over to return to sleep. And at his side stood the Captain of the Powers, having been woken by the soft click of his door as his young charge left the room, he'd quietly slipped his boots on and made to follow behind him.

They'd exchanged silent gazes as they met, both Archangel and Captain, following after their silent charges as they walked quietly ahead of them.

Watching them now, restless, unable to sleep from the things that played back to them in their minds, as their fingers curled around each other and they clasped hands, Lucifer leaned slightly towards the Captain.

"It's seeing this, that makes me regret everything, seeing them so scarred. I did it to prove a point, to protect us, but what was the worth if it only hurt us in return."


	151. Strange

**_Song listened to: 'Shooting Stars' Ft. Astranova, Pharaoh, and Catty Noir_**

Standing in the presence of their Father, who could stop things should they get too out of hand, the fledgling was able to truly explore her grace.

They all watched on bated breath to see just what she could do. Though she was still too young to do it unsupervised, it was an opportunity to be used, and use it they would.

Akeelah closed her eyes, breathing in deeply, just like she'd been told to and reached for the warmth inside. She pictured a glowing ball, and reached inside for it, curling her fingers into the glowing mass, and feeling its warmth spread over her like warm water trickling from her head down.

Her eyes opened, a bright blue against the darkness of the setting sun outside, and the glow spread from her fingertips as was custom when she pulled at her inner power. It spread from her fingers, up her palm, slowly climbing up both arms, enveloping her entire form in an armor made of pure energy.

She held her arms out, hands upturned and palm's freed, the atmosphere in the room lifted at her command. Their hair swayed to the change in pressure, her braids raised as gravity seemed to weaken, and little stray pebbles began to slowly lift into the air as gravity thinned out to a tiny veil at her thought.

Father watched her with pride, beaming at the sight of her power, knowing it would only get stronger as she grew older. His archangel watched their fledgling in varying degrees of awe, as her hands turned inward, curling as though holding onto a ball, and a sphere of light slowly began forming in her grasp. It dripped light down, until it faded just before it hit the floor, and He bent to lift her creation into His hand.

"A new star has been born." He set it up in the night sky, watching it twinkly brightly down at them, and smiled back down at His young daughter "A fledgling star has been born."

He knew, of course, just what she would become. He knew where all of His children ended up, the good and the bad, and He knew that this one would most certainly be one of the good. Without a doubt. And He knew she would create new worlds.

She had already started to, after all.


	152. Weapon

**_AN: honestly, I fangirl over you guys too lol! I'm happy you liked the Nisroc and Paul fluff! 3_**

**_Song listened to: 'Youre gonna make it' by KJ-52 Ft. Blanca Reyes. _**

They were silent for a long while, the Prince and Morningstar had bent over on themselves, hands pressed over their faces. The Messenger was staring at the stone table, at no spot in particular, lost in thought. And the Healer looked sad, he looked sadder then they'd ever seen from him, it had been him, after all, that had taught the Mindbreaker what she knew.

He'd raised a monster.

She had told him it was to alleviate the pain of loss and he had shown her. He had been so distracted by his own emotions, his own anger, to see what had been happening to his little brothers and sister at the hand of a monster. And to think that she had used it, nearly used it, against fledglings made him feel much more worse then he already felt, it broke his heart that his teachings had been used in such a vile manner, and it made him want to bury his face in his hands and cry.

Their brokenness was on him.

Their terror, despair, night terrors, it was all on him.

Michael spoke again, before he could, something of which he was thankful for. He had looked back up to the young ones sitting across from him, the Morningstar's shoulders were shaking, and the little fledgling in his lap could do nothing more then stare down at her own hands.

"There are no words I can express to tell you how sorry I am that this has happened."

Gabriel nodded mutely, finally lifting his eyes from the table, and they met those of his young protégé. Zaveriel met his gaze for a moment before looking down again, averting his eyes from his masters, opting in staring down at his lap instead.

"Jezaniah, little one, you were held prisoner there?"

The fledgling nodded silently, his eyes peering into the archangels, not having looked away from him once he started speaking. It broke the Prince's heart, the little fledgling was so small, he was innocent, and had been locked in a cage as though he was some sort of animal.

"Me and 'Keela. We was kept together."

He spared the fledgling on his younger brothers knee a look, one that she returned, and it was the only confirmation he needed when she looked back down at her hands. Nisroc was looking up at them, his eyes the only thing visible from behind his hands, the compassionate Captain was breaking at the seams hearing this from those so young.

"Did she say why she kept you?"

Jezaniah shook his head, having said all he wanted to say, and turned to hide in Jeremiah's shoulder instead. Akeelah clenched her fingers, unclenched, and tightened them into little fists again before reaching out to tug on the oldest archangels sleeve in order to gain his attention.

"I know. I heard her talkin'", they all turned to look at her, the fledgling was quite when she needed to be, and they often wondered just how much she knew that they didn't, "She said she was gonna get rid of our weakness. Make us better. Make us follow orders so we could fight."

Child soldiers. Naomi had attempted to create mindless child soldiers and it had been allowed to happen right under their noses. The blame for the suffering that these young ones suffered was theirs to bare, and theirs alone.

Paul curled his arms around himself, "She did it to a lot of us. She'd strap you to the cold beds, you couldn't move, and then she'd drill into your head. I can't…I _can't _remember a lot of things. I remember dragging those she experimented on back to their rooms. But everything is really fuzzy.", he looked up to meet the eyes of his commander "She took everything and broke it." Nisroc finally sat up, silent as he was, and curled an arm around his young charges shoulders, pulling him deep into his side, perhaps more so for his own comfort than that of the youngling's.

Gabriel continued on staring at his second despite him averting his eyes, and felt his throat begin to close, "Zaves? Please don't tell me…."

The young messenger shut his eyes, folding in on himself, and they turned to peer over at his unusually subdued form.

"She tried to take you away from us, Gabe, she tried to take the memories of you away from us.", the young messenger looked up at him sadly, before turning to look at the young choir angel curled into the Morningstar "It was Akeelah who helped me get out. But others weren't so lucky. Dad fixed them, when He sentenced Naomi, that's why He locked Himself up in the Throne Room." His face screwed up into disgust "I would have locked her up in the cage. Let her feel the taste of her own prisons. Or killed her. Sometimes I think Dad is too merciful. He loves all His kids too much."

"The others are scared." Paul piped up from where he had hidden himself in the Power's shoulder, Nisroc made him feel better, safer, and he liked that he was with him "Scared that you'll see how broken they are and that you'll let the Mindbreaker free again. You wouldn't…Right?"

Lucifer finally looked up, his eyes red, he'd been crying silently in his hands and they all knew it. He shook his head firmly, wrapping his arms around the fledgling that sat perched lightly on his knee, and pulled her back completely against his chest. As though he would protect her from it all. Perhaps a bit too late but the gesture was appreciated.

"Never. She will never see the light of the day again. And you will never suffer at her hands again. I will see to that personally."

"Raphael?" the Healer turned to look at his older brother, Michael gazed at him imploringly, "I trust you know how to remedy this." And he nodded once, looking down at the table for a moment, before returning his gaze upwards "I do. Father has returned what was once lost, but some are hurt more physically, I will see to them myself and see to Rahael being available for any who wish to talk to him about their trauma, as it is his area of expertise."

The Prince nodded, smiling sadly at the young ones that sat before him, "My heart breaks at your suffering. But no more. With this knowledge we can begin to heal from the pain. All things can be made new again, given time, and time is what shall be given."


	153. Blurred

**_Song listened to: 'Beauty From Pain' by Superchick._**

"Did you hear the news?"

The quite little fledgling looked up at the call, meeting the eyes of her best friend, and shook her head as she tilted it to the side in wonder to his exclamation. Zaveriel sat next to her on the broken column. The fighting had come to a stop nearly a day ago and already the silence was deafening, where the clash of swords and graces once exploded was nothing but silence, and those brave enough began to creep out from their hiding spots to see what had caused the pause.

"No. What happened? Another sanction?"

"No, not another.", the exiled messenger shook his head, tucking a stray strand behind his ear "Word on the street is that Father has returned."

That had caught her attention, and she turned back to stare at him with wide eyes, perhaps there was hope after all. Father would never stand to see them fighting, right? He would stop it.

"Rumor also has it that He brought the four Archangels back."

"We don' need no _Archangels_."

"But what if they changed?"

She shook her head, and he knew in that moment that when the most forgiving of fledglings didn't excuse one for their wrongdoing that it was most certainly a deeper problem. He couldn't blame her though, the Healer and Prince had tried to separate her Choir, they thrown them in the prisons without thought, they'd treated them with such disgust it was a wonder why they hadn't just disappeared like his master had. Though perhaps locking oneself up in a broken Pantheon was something akin to disappearing.

"Is Daddy really back?"

He nodded, standing from his place next to her, and held out his hand. Zaveriel knew she wouldn't believe him unless she saw for herself, and though the brave little fledgling looked unsure about it, she took his hand and hopped down from the upturned pillar.

They walked down the cracked Axis Mundi, watching in silence as others slowly crept out to explore the silence, they ducked as the two Powers stepped by, and quickly turned a corner when they kept on in their direction and didn't bat an eye at them, but they quickened their pace for the next few minutes just to make sure they weren't easily followed.

The two of them walked, hand in hand, passed the darkened Infirmary. It had gone silent the day the gentle Healer had picked up his staff and meant harm with it. The day he turned away from the gentle nature he was known for and turned into a battle-hardened Commander of Heaven.

They ventured passed the empty Aerie, Zaveriel stopping their stride to stare forlornly at his old home, and his friend never made any mention of the tears that gathered in his eyes. It was no secret to her the failure he thought himself to be. He had been made second in command of the Aerie in the case of the Messengers demise, and he'd taken command, only for a week, before they were stormed by the Powers and Virtues and torn apart. His anger at his master for abandoning them outweighed some of the sadness though, and his free hand clenched into a tight fist, before Akeelah tugged on the one, she had in her grasp and they turned to continue on their way.

The Throne Room doors were open.

They stood open.

After being sealed for as long as they had been, the fledgling could do nothing but stare at the sight of them being open again, standing at the bottom of the stone steps that lead up to the entrance.

"Come on" her friend tugged on her hand this time as he stepped up to the first step "Seeing is believing, right?"

She nodded and followed up the first step with him, and then the second and the third, they steadily climbed the stairs slowly and cautiously. The messenger's fingers curled around the hilt of the short sword tucked into the belt that wrapped around his waist, as though preparing for a sneak attack at their foolish wandering into the unknown. They stopped just over the edge of the final step, staring at the large open doors, it having been so long since they had seen them reveal the souls within.

**_'_****_Enter My children.'_**

The strong voice made her gasp softly in surprise, her fingers tightening around her friends, and she turned to look up at the messenger in hope. They knew that voice, every angel knew that voice, and they turned back to stare at the wide-open doors for another minute without daring to move.

Zaveriel gripped her hand tighter and stepped up and over the last step. He led her across the stone veranda and through the opened doors. There sitting on the Throne was a being they knew instinctively, in the form of a Man, rainbow eyes saddened as they watched them draw closer, dark curls framing His face as though He wore a crown on His head, a well-manicured beard adorned His chin, and His robes the same smooth dark blue they always were. He was just as big as they remembered Him being, still at least five and a half heads taller then them, even sitting as He was.

They were not the first ones to make their way here, there was a small crowd, one waved at the fledgling. A young boy, perhaps a few eons older then her, and she stared at him for a long moment before shaking her head and turning away from him. Zaveriel watched the heartbreak flit across his features, before he could quickly conceal it, and he huddled in on himself again.

"My children, we've been waiting on your arrival, you are the last."

He waved a hand and guards unseen pulled the grand oak doors shut behind them, it echoed a soft boom around them, and they crept closer to Him with careful steps. He bent forward in His throne, reaching out a hand to them.

"Let me return what has been so wrongfully taken from you."

His fingers brushed over the messengers temple, and he fell to his knees in pain, his hand falling from his friends as he instead reached up with both to clutch at his head as images swirled and retook their hold. Emerald robes and dark fingers. Electric blue eyes and the soft echo of humming. Golden wings and soft chuckles. Peppermint and chamomile wafted through his senses. He heard laughter, it was young and rich, and saw in his mind the image of a young angel running away from a taller one, they were caught, and the elder tossed them up above their head. The same laughter echoed from before, this time running from another with golden eyes and a bright smile. He remember his choosing day; the proud smile of a familiar dark-skinned man and the delighted grin of one with rich golden eyes.

The world was spinning around him, his head throbbing as memories assaulted him all at once. Memories he didn't even know he was missing. He saw himself being dragged, against his will, pulling uselessly against the solid grip towards the dark imposing building, his eyes frantically looked from one side to the other as he was strapped down in a hard-cold metal chair. The whirling of a drill echoed in his ears, the briefest glimpse of a cruel smile, and then there was darkness.

Someone was shaking his from the side, little fingers digging tightly into his arm, and he finally looked up from under his hands, unfolded from himself, to the terrified eyes of his little friend.

"Zaves? Zaves! Are you 'kay! What happened! What He do!"

He grabbed onto her hands, lest she keep shaking him despite her having his attention, and to help alleviate his pounding headache "I…I _remember_. I remember it _all _Akeelah. The laughing and the eyes and the _humming! _The _humming _Akeelah!"

He stood back from them, watching the both of them with saddened eyes, but not daring reach for the petrified fledgling until she allowed Him to. It broke His heart to see what had been done to His children, grown and young, and He wanted to mend what He could. But moving too fast for the traumatized fledgling would do more harm then good, and His intention was not to bring anymore harm, to let His children begin to heal.

"Let Him do it. You don't know you don't remember until you do.", Zaveriel looked up at his friend, and then over her to his Father, his eyes wide as his mind continued to spin "Akeelah let Him help you _remember_."

She watched him for a long while, staring at him, unsure of it all. But her courage won out, and she turned shyly to look up at the tall Man. He smiled kindly to her in return of her attention, and reached His hand out again, His fingers brushed over her temple and her eyes widened.

Zaveriel caught his friend when her knees buckled under her, eyes clenched shut, little fists pressing hard to either side of her head as thing swirled before her minds eye.

Tunes and melodies, singing from all around, cool grace brushing against her. A large hand resting on her head. Another angel, female in stature, waving towards her in distress, and bright ice blue eyes turning to look at her in curiosity, a deep voice responding to the distressed elder kindly. Arms curling around her as she jumped around, the songs echoing in her ears, cool lips pressing kisses just behind her ear, and the echo of bright giggles ingulfed her in its sound. Rose gold feathers brushing over her face, over her arms, playful in nature, the same deep voice singing softly along to the song that echoed around her head. The scent of pine and cinnamon wafted against her senses, curling around her like an invisible blanket, it was a familiar scent, but she couldn't name where she knew it from. Blonde hair. Icy blue eyes. More rose gold feathers. The deep voice. Humming. Singing. She knew it all.

And all at once her eyes widened in recognition, she looked up in the saddened eyes watching her so carefully, and He nodded at her silent question.

"You remember?"

She nodded, and He smiled sadly down at her, kneeling to rest a large hand on her head.

"He remembers you. He shouldn't have had favorites. But you were his."

With the good memories came the bad though. The line of Powers marching an elder bound with glowing chains. The fearsome Prince breaking rose gold wings. The terrified screech that echoed around them when they were pushed down into the dark Abyss below. The clashing of swords and screaming of those perished at the hands of brother and sisters. It all came back in equal fashion.

She was happy she remembered.

But wished she didn't remember it all.


	154. Stained

**_Song listened to: 'Back to the way I was' by Jem and the Holograms_**

Despite the deep gash slashed against his chest, oozing warm red down his front, Paul scrambled sluggishly to his friend who had fallen as still as the dead. She had looked down to her hand, when she pulled them away from the pressure, she had been pressing to the gushing wound, and had to look up from them. The red dripped like paint from her fingers, her focus completely on the color, on the thick substance coating her little hands, and he knew she had left him there alone.

"'Keelah? 'Keelah? Can you hear me?"

She didn't acknowledge that she heard him, and he flinched at the pull on the injury he'd been dealt as he crawled forward, not liking the way she was focused completely on the red.

"'Keelah please? Please don't leave me? I don' wanna lose you again."

"Its…." Her voice shook, as soft as it was, and it cracked brokenly "So much red…There's so much red, Paul…I can't get it off…."

He was one of the few who knew what the young ones had been through, the horror they lived through, as the young ones had no one to rely on but themselves and each other. He'd seen his friend drive broken pieces of glass into others, to free herself from their capture, and the skin break open around the sharp edge freeing red blood to flow down her fingers and stain her tattered robe. Red was everywhere. They were all soaked by it. Every last one of them.

"'Keelah you didn't mean to. You _had _to. The red isn't there anymore. There's more color now."

Paul whimpered and pressed his own hand to the glistening gash over his midsection, turning to look down as dizziness overtook him, but was still concerned for his friend too. Akeelah was still staring at her hands in horror, not uttering another word, when he fell to the side from how dizzy he was. They were alone, one traumatized fledgling lost in thoughts too dark to want to remember, and a youngling in training for the warriors slowly bleeding out from the wound he'd been gifted from a suddenly appearing enemy.

His vision was going blurry, when he saw the hands curl over his own, and he looked up to the familiar face hovering over his own. Nisroc looked worried as he pressed his hands firmly to the bleeding wound on his charge's chest, applying a pressure that the youth couldn't, and the youngling hissed at the pain from it.

"This is why I say to stay at our side.", he looked sharply over his shoulder "_Oren! _They're over here!"

Another set of hands pressed to the wound, and he turned to see the familiar sight of the captain of the Virtues on his other side. He pushed them away though, as much as he could, and gestured toward his friend, throwing his arm at her, pulling away from their hands in his need to get to her side again. They didn't know, they wouldn't understand, Akeelah kept her secrets, they all did from their place in the war, and they didn't _know_.

"The…red…."

Oren tried to pull him back around and when he stubbornly pulled away again, attempting to crawl from their grasp to his young friend, the Virtue snapped heatedly at the Power "Nisroc! Control _your _charge!" and the Power tried to pull him back, closer, so that his wound could be tended to lest he continue bleeding out, but he stubbornly fought against them, as weak as he was from blood loss, and the stern _'Paul, be still' _from his guardian because he needed to get back to his friends side.

"_Nis_…. help…. help…. her…."

"Puriel will tend to her, we can wash it off, get a new robe. But you are losing much blood, you need to lay still, turn back over."

"No…You…." He lost his fight, in in weakened state, and was turned back to lay between the Power and the Virtue, so he instead reached out to grab their wrists with slick red hands "the…. the…._ red_…"

"Yes, the blood is red, it stained her robes, she will be cleaned up and dressed into clean ones."

"Lay still and let me work."

Nisroc let his fingers remain curled around his wrist, but Oren pulled his free to press his hands back to the wound, pushing his grace into it, and the skin began to knit itself back together slowly and surely. It would smart for a while, and most certainly leave a scar, but it would heal. Paul shook his head, aggravation setting in when he couldn't make them understand, couldn't they see? Oren as a healer should know what was wrong with her. Nisroc too, as he was a Power, he has seen what becomes of those who continue to relive on the battlefield. He grabbed the Virtues left wrist again and pulled sharply, the healer yelped as he was pulled around, having focused on the wound he was tending to.

"The…red…the…._ red..._ stained…hands…. help….'Keelah…._ Nis_…. the _red…..."_

He felt relief flood through him when both of their heads finally shot around to look towards the fledgling, Puriel was kneeling in front of her, but she hadn't moved as she just sat there staring at her red hands. She shivered, quaking where she sat, staring unblinkingly at her hands. Nisroc swore under his breath, something so out of his character, and turned quickly to the Virtue across from him "Can we move him?" Oren nodded at once, turning from the fledgling to look down at the nearly sealed slash on the younglings chest "Yes, we can move him, straight to the infirmary, but we can move him."

"Good." Nisroc brushed his hair back in affection "Be brave for me, little warrior."

Oren nodded at him once as he scooped the injured youngling up in his arms, and the Power bolted from where he sat on his knees, bent as he ran to the fledglings side. Akeelah made no acknowledgement of his sudden appearance, Puriel backed away at his taking over the matter, and said nothing as his Captain merely scooped the shivering fledgling into his arms, despite her change in position her eyes never broke from their stare.

"The red. Its everywhere. Its so red. I didn' want to. I swear I didn' want to. It's so _red."_

Was the steady stream that whispered from her lips as Nisroc took her up in arms, Puriel's brows creased in confusion and worry, looking to his Captain for answers. He shook his head firmly, having fallen into the mindset of Captain over that of friend and brother, "Alert the others of our findings and return. Go ahead and ensure that the Healer is available and ensure that Rahael is present." The fellow Power saluted once, pounding a fist across his chest, and jumped into the air to alert the others and carry out his orders.

Her steady stream of whispers fell into his ear as he tucked her in close, opening his own deep navy-blue wings, and thrust them into the sky above.

Rahael was present when they landed, waiting at the entrance, wringing his hands together anxiously for their arrival. Nisroc landed solidly, bending at the knee slightly as he did, and hurried forward with his own bundle, Rahael ran forward to meet him halfway and visibly analyzed the situation in quick pace.

"She's in shock!", he grabbed onto the Power's arm and pulled him forward, turning to get them both to the infirmary as quick as he could manage "We must hurry before shock turns to panic!"

He led them to a bed, next to the one that held the Power's charge, and motioned for him to set her down as he turned to a healer passing by.

"You! I need a blanket, a thick one, and some rags to clean the blood off her hands! Go, _go_, hurry now!"

The healer took off at the order, running around others, her hair flying behind her as she moved with haste to gather what was instructed of her. Akeelah remained unresponsive to his attempts to arouse her from her trance, and Rahael turned in quick succession away from her as the other healer returned, waving the Power away in knowing that he would want to see to his charge. Nisroc was grateful but shot one last look to his young little friend and turned to look in on young Paul.

"Help me undress her, quick now, with haste." He grabbed onto her top and lifted it gently over her head, guiding it down and over her arms, lifting her for the young woman to pull the fledglings bottoms off. "The rags, the water, bring them now. Ready the warm blanket." The healer nodded at the orders given, setting the bowl and rags at his side, and stepping up on the other side of the bed with the blanket open to curl around the fledgling when she was instructed by the elder.

Rahael soaked a rag with a steady quick hand and rubbed away the red blood from her chest where it had soaked through the front of her robe, rubbing in soothing circles and applying enough pressure to draw her back to the present.

"Come, little Akeelah, there are so many who want to see those pretty eyes. Come back to us now."

He spoke with a softness that was reserved for the patients who suffered through episodes of shock and panic.

Rahael took one of her little hands in his, fingers curling around her wrist, and wrapped the tiny thing in a clean rag completely.

"I know it stains your hands, little one, but even stains can be washed away." Her head twitched, turning to stare at the hand that he had just cleaned the red off of, and he took it as progress despite it being the smallest of gestures "See little one, the red can be washed away, it can be cleaned, wash it away little one. Let it wash away." He reached for the other red hand, the fingers twitched, uncurled, reached even, for the clean rag and he gently encased it in the warm rag, "That's it. Let the red fade, let it wash away from your hands, watch it be washed away. Watch." Her eyes focused on her hand, wrapped in the rag, and watched intently as he slowly wiped the remaining red away to reveal a pale little hand underneath it all. He waited on bated breath, for any sign of return or the onslaught of panic from such shock, and then her eyes slowly turned to look up at him instead. Rahael smiled down to her with a gentleness "Are you with me?" she took a moment to think it over and slowly nodded, the bed dipped at his side, and he turned to see what had caused it.

The boy had broken free from his guardian and healers, and returned to his friends side, her head slowly turned, and her eyes locked onto his as he climbed up on the bed with her. Tears began to glisten in her bright blue eyes, and the boy crawled forward, falling on her as she jumped forward for him. Both young ones curled around each other, the boy resolute and protective, and the fledgling sobbing into his shoulder apology after apology.

Rahael rubbed his hands over his face, gesturing for the healer aiding him to get rid of the reddened bowl and rags, and she did with the same haste she had gathered them up with. The Power stepped up behind him, the Healer stepping around to kneel beside the two young angels, clinging to one another as though they served as a lifeline to one another, he whispered something to them that they couldn't make out, but whatever it was had an effect.

They both uncurled slightly, allowing the Healer to lift them both into his arms, and he held them close as he turned to leave them where they stayed, watching the Healer walk through the beds with two young angels clinging to him as though he were a lifeline for both of them.

His humming echoed around the unnaturally silent Infirmary, and they settled under his touch, the little ones sobs came to a hiccupping silence, before her eyes closed completely. The youngling was perched on his hip, head resting on his shoulder, legs hanging limply downwards, and they watched as the Archangel made his rounds through the various patients and slowly made his way back to their side.

Nisroc took his sleeping charge up in his arms, his grip loose as he curled around him, legs hanging limping around his waist, the head of curls coming to rest on his right shoulder silently and arms curling around his neck loosely, before he tightened his grip around the boy, he was so fond of.

He reached with the hand not wrapped under the boy's bottom, and stroked the fledglings tear soaked cheek, "Will they ever be okay?"

"With time." The Healer looked between them both before meeting the eyes of the Power before him, "With much care and time."


	155. Abandoned

**_AN: Robin0203! Of course I do, frand! Always!_**

**_Song listened to: 'Never Alone' by BarlowGirl._**

She remembered him, sitting next to her friend on their Father's left, staring straight ahead as though watching something and not daring blink lest she miss it. She remembered his promise, when he'd picked her for his personal led Choir, that he wouldn't leave her on her own. He'd stay with her through it all, the trials of being the youngest one in a Choir of Elders, under the distrusting and disbelieving eyes that would surely track her every move as if waiting for the slip ups to happen. And he had been, there for her, for them _all_, for the longest time.

And then things changed. He was angry all the time, snapping at the drop of a pin, yelling angrily when they missed a note and just barely held himself back from striking some when they missed complete stanzas.

With the return of memories came the bad ones, the ones she wished she would continue to forget, the breakup of their Choir.

But she couldn't, it played before her minds eye, the Power's corralling them together into one massive herd, pushing them forward as their Master was led before them kept captive by golden chains glowing with the runes imprinted on every link. She saw her hands, clutching at the back of Jeremiah's leg as they were herded forward, the fear and unknown swirled up inside her as it had back then. She looked up, through the memory, and saw the three remaining archangels standing at the gates, where the edge of Heaven was, and the mouth of the Abyss spread wide open for its next meal.

Her Master is yanked up the steps, forced to kneel before the Prince, and he says something to the Morningstar that she cannot hear, and the other responds in kind. The Prince nods stiffly, motioning with a single gesture for his second and third to drag the exiled archangel around, nodding the Healer forward. With a skill only she knows one of his stature can have, he break her master's wings in three places, at the joints, so that should they heal it would heal wrong and forever serve as a painful reminder of what he had lost.

Her breath quickens, hands raising to clutch at her head, and the messenger at her side turns to look down at her in concern but noticeably doesn't say anything.

They're pushed forward by Powers and Virtues, forward to stand on the edge just behind their Master, far away enough to ensure they would not fall in, and close enough to see the Pit below. Her eyes widen, she can feel it, when she sees the metal box that her Master sees as he looks down in similar fashion. The fear in his eyes brings her to a stillness unknown, it's a look she never thought she's see from him, and he says something to the Prince.

But he shakes his head with one harsh movement, gripping him between the shoulders, and makes the proclamation to them, the Choir, of what happens to those who stand against Heaven, and then he _pushes_.

She screams in time with her master, as she had those eons ago when they were herded closer to the edge to watch him fall into his prison and the gaping mouth of the pit close over him.

Zaveriel shakes her shoulder, concern etched on his features, and she turns to look at him with a sob on the verge of escaping from her chest.

"He _promised, _Zaves! He _promised_!"

Her friend couldn't understand what she was talking about, no matter how much he wished he could and how hard he tried and didn't know how to comfort for a distress he didn't understand.

"He said he did it _all _for _us_! But what was the _point _of it if he was gonna _lose _us?"

A sob broke from her chest, rolling from her shivering lips, and she surged forward for her friend. Zaveriel wrapped her up in his arms, trying to offer comfort for what he couldn't begin to understand, and ended up crying into her wild curls with her.

Father watched them from above with great sadness in His eyes, though they didn't see, and He wondered briefly, as He looked about His broken children, just what the cost of this war was.


	156. Contagious

**_Song listened to: 'Let it Burn' by Red._**

It was not accepted when the legendary Powers went from being protectors to enforcers. Enforcing the new sanctions and laws with a fierceness that was usually reserved for the battlefield, and those they enforced over revolted in kind, they were not animals to be controlled, they were people with their own lives and hearts to follow.

The overtook the training field with ease, there was just too many to stop, and they had not been present to see the beginning of it, to see who had lit the first torch, but they returned to their home burning to the ground. The Pavilion was made of stone, it could not burn, but their things had been taken from within, their own treasures that they held near to their hearts and thrown together in one large pile and set to flame. The glass windows of their Pavilion had been smashed through, glass sparkling among the green grass of the training field below.

Nisroc could do nothing but stare as his belongings were burned to ash, his eyes meeting those of a fledgling standing on the other side of the flames, glowing orange from the illuminating flames that licked at the air, and their eyes met for a brief interaction. He committed those eyes to memory, having already seen them somewhere before, and it dawned on him a moment later from where he knew those eyes.

They had watched him with such fear from behind the Choir Elders leg and there they stared at him again from behind a wall of burning flames, the only still body in a sea of rioting angels, and his eyes averted down to the cloak he'd been gifted upon being made Captain of the Powers. It was something that was near to his heart, something that had been given to him from the hands of the Prince himself, and he treasured every thread that wove the red cloak together.

The little, nameless, fledgling stared at him, his eyes returning to hers, and she held her little hands out with the balled-up cloak in them. Recognition shone in those brilliant blue eyes, indicating that she too knew where she had seen his face before, and she let the red cloak fall into the flames without so much as averting her gaze for a moment.

There was nothing he could do but watch as his beloved cloak was caught in the mouth of the raging fire, and devoured before his very eyes, the weight of the gaze on him tore him from staring at the destruction of the thing he cherished most out of all his belongings. The fledgling was still staring at him, and he committed the eyes to his memory, never wanting to forget the burning blues that stared at him around the other end of the raging fire.

She lifted her chin defiantly and disappeared in the raging horde of factions and lost angels.

Slowly the swarm dissipated, the fire beginning to burn itself out, and they all stepped forward to see if anything they owned was salvageable from the fires raging teeth. He knelt to lightly snag the charred hood of his cloak, the only remaining piece of the woven item, and stared down at it for a silent moment. Some part of him knew he would see her again, recognized by those brilliant blue eyes, and he clenched his fingers around the fabric tightly.

"Nisroc?" a hand settled lightly on his shoulder, where he was still kneeling before the smoldering pile of ash, their belongings destroyed like their family was. Haniel squeezed his shoulder silently, seeming to recognize the fabric his Captain clenched in his hand, "I am sorry about your cloak. I know how much you cared for it."

The Captain shrugged, mind still buzzing from what had been witnessed, those eyes still glistening in his minds eye.

"It should never have turned to this."

He knew the other Power agreed. He stood, keeping the sight he witnessed to himself, and stepped away from the brother behind him. He would see those eyes again. He knew it.

And it wasn't long before he did see them again.

It was a storming night, thunder rumbling through the night air, rain pelting the stone steps heavily, and lightning dancing far across the sky, when they tore into the Pantheon. The Choir angels screamed in terror and bolted from them and were eventually caught up and restrained with similar chains to those used to bind the infamous Morningstar. The Elders fought back, in their attempt to keep them from getting to the young ones, but they were soon torn through by the might of the legendary Powers.

Nisroc and Abraxos corned a pair of them, and he stared once again into the eyes he had committed into his memory, as they peered out at him from behind the guardians leg. He knew the guardian, they had once been close friends, but war changed them all and they could never be what they once were again. Abraxos cut the guardian down with ease, dragging him away from the petrified fledgling, and she stepped back further into her corner, her eyes staring into his with a fear he had never seen before. The Captain stared back for a moment, his fingers curling around the hilt of his sword, and she tensed as though preparing for a strike. He didn't gesture, he didn't urge, he merely nodded and turned. He felt the eyes of the fledgling tearing into the back of his head as he left her hidden in the shadows of her corner to return to the others and take their captives to the prisons. He shook his head sharply when Abraxos opened his mouth, and the other Power nodded quickly, once, and turned back to herd their prisoners out of the grand stone doors to their captivity. Nisroc was the only one who remained, standing at the top of the stairs, soaked by the storm that ranged on around them, as though the sky itself was distressed at the treatment of her people. He looked up, squinting at the assaulting raindrops splashing against his face, and turned to look behind him. The eyes were gone, there was nothing, but shadows left in the corner, and he turned to follow the others to the prison.

His next glimpse of those eyes were soon to follow once more.

The fallen angels, those who had stood with the Morningstar at the beginning of this war that had torn their family apart, had attacked with the ferocity of those who had nothing left to lose. He closed his eyes, sprawled on the ground where he was, sword pinning his wing to the hardened dirt of the abandoned Garden and prepared himself for the strike that would end him once and for all.

His opponent screamed in surprise, and he opened his eyes at the suddenness of it, staring at the blade that had been driven up through the others lower back to stick up at an angle through their midsection. They stared at him in surprise, then looked down to the blade sticking from their chest and fell forward in a crumpled heap.

Those brilliant eyes stared at him from where the other had just fallen, the silver glint of a blade clutched in one hand, blood dripping down the fingers and over the blade, dripping like little raindrops into the torn grass. It were the eyes of the fledgling he had saved from the tortures of the prison, and she had just returned his favor in kind, she didn't utter a word to him as she ran forward and dropped the red tinted blade onto his stomach, her little hands curling around the hilt of the long sword and she pulled with all she was worth.

Nisroc hissed as the blade was pulled from his wing and dropped beside him. She stared down at him silently, and he stared up at her just as silently in kind, and then she ran passed him and disappeared in the fray of the battle.

The debt owed was repaid.

He didn't see those eyes again until the fighting came to a complete halt.


	157. Carry

**_Song listened to: 'Flashlight' Jessie J, Cover by Megan Nicole._**

He wondered into the Garden, nodding kindly at the gentle Gardener as he did, Joshua had returned from wherever it was he had disappeared to exactly one week after Father had returned with Aunt at His side and called an end to the War completely.

It was a slow process, but Joshua was mending what had been broken in the fighting.

The kind Gardener stood from where he was planting the small sapling of a tree, it was the sign of a fresh beginning after such strife, it grown with them as their family regrew. He set a dirt covered hand on his shoulder, dirt clung to the white tunic he wore, and gave a gentle squeeze.

"What you seek is just beyond the crest of the trees, my friend."

He smiled, a small shy thing, at the Gardener and he squeezed his shoulder once more before turning back to his replanting.

_'__And though the road is long_

_I look up to the sky_

_And in the dark I found_

_I lost hope that I won't fly_

_And I sing along, I sing along_

_And I sing along'_

Just beyond the trees, just as the Gardener had said, was what he sought after. He stood still, silent in the shade of the trees, watching the little angel twirl around in the bright clearing, dancing freely among the tall grass and bright flowers. Her voice was a breath of fresh air, a Choir angel, and he stood to listen as the melody travelled through the trees on the dancing breeze.

_'__I see the shadows long beneath the Mountain top_

_I'm not afraid when the rain won't stop_

_'__Cause you light the way_

_You light the way, you light the way'_

Her eyes opened and he saw the brilliance he hadn't seen since his last visit to the garden, and his breath caught at the sight of them, watching her spin around, braids twirling around behind her. A gentle breeze after a raging storm has passed. He stepped on a branch and it broke her from her self-populated world, spinning around to stare at him wide surprised eyes.

When she looked as though she was going to bolt, he leaned forward, holding his hands up in gentle fashion.

"Wait, wait, it's okay! I promise! I was just listening."

She didn't utter anything in return and so he sat in the grass on the tree line, counting it as a win when she didn't bolt when he looked down briefly to sit, her eyes didn't stray, and they remained just as wide as they were a moment previous.

"I…Thank you." He spoke gently, as if to a frightened cub, and didn't reach beyond the tree line "For freeing my wing from the sword." She stared at him in silence, and he didn't expect her to answer "You're welcome." It was his turn to stare wide eyed at her.

She was young, so _so _young, her voice was soft and light. It was sweet but held the edge of a blade to it, almost deceivingly soft, and he had no doubts that she could tear an angel down with mere words alone. Thus, was one of the products of war.

"Thanks for not takin' me to the prisons."

He nodded "You are welcome." He leaned forward, leaning with his elbows on his knees "I'm Nisroc. What's your name?"

"I know who you are."

There was still a flighty echo to her tone, in her posture, but she remained where she was and slowly sat down in the grass just feet away from him, in the warm grass and bright flowers. She sat curled in on herself, legs bent under her, arms wrapped around her midsection loosely.

"My name's Akeelah."

"It's nice to finally meet you, little Akeelah." He smiled at her kindly and she returned it with a small shy smile of her own "Thank you for staying with me."

"Can I see your necklace?"

He looked down in confusion and thought dawned on him at the chain that hung around his neck, and the Power nodded as he lifted the pendant up from within his tunic and pulled the chain up over his head. She didn't reach for it as he leaned forward with it in hand, so he set it in the grass between them, watching as he leaned back, and she quick thrust her hand forward to snatch it up in order to retreat back to her spot in quick fashion. She stared at the pendant, large in her little hands, and ran her fingers over the rune etched in the stone.

"What's it mean?"

Nisroc's eyes flitted down to his pendant she held in her little hands, her head turning up, and those familiar brilliant eyes locked onto his.

"Family. It's a rune for family. All of us wear them."

Akeelah nodded and looked back down, running her little fingers over it again, and scooted closer to actually pass it back to him but he shook his head, waving it back.

"Keep it. You fought in battle with us. You are one of our family."

She looked up at him, her hand slowly pulling back, "I'm a Power?"

"A Baby Power.", he held a hand out to here, and she looked down to it quickly, nearly scooting back from it, but she stayed "Here?" she set the pendant in his palm, the chain hanging over the side of his hand, and he leaned forward, as close as he's ever been, and pulled the chain up and around her neck. It was large on her, resting on her lower stomach, and he sat back watching as she looked down at it, braids falling over her shoulders and coming down to frame her face as she did, lifting the pendant up in her little palm to look at it.

The fledgling scooted closer, looking up to meet his eyes, reaching into the front of her robe for her own little treasure, whatever that may be.

"For you."

She held out a little fist and he opened his hand for her to set her treasure into, and he stared in awe when her hand pulled away to reveal a little silver ring, blue stone encrusted in the band, all Choir angels were gifted one when they were chosen for The Choir. He thanked her softly and pulled the second thin chain he wore around his neck up from under his tunic, undid the end and threaded the end through the ring, and it slid down to the bottom when he held it up straight. She watched as he clasped the two ends together and pulled the chain around his neck once more.

"You let me go." She smiled at him again, a bit brighter then the last, and scooted closer and before he knew it their knees were brushing together "You can be in my family too."

"I thank you, little Akeelah, for the blessing even after all the damage I've cause you're family."

Her little fingers hesitantly wrapped around his as she leaned forward to take his hand with her little one.

"You didn't like it, you were sad, I saw it in your eyes."

"And you are brave, the bravest fledgling I have ever met, I saw that in _your _eyes."

Nisroc lifted her little hand to press a kiss to the back. She smiled at the feeling of the unexpectedly warm lips pressing to the back of her hand in a chaste kiss.

"I was nice to meet you, Nisroc."

"It was nice to meet _you_, little Akeelah."


	158. Torn

**_Song listened to: 'What I've Become' by Fireflight._**

The War had left them all in various states of brokenness.

Fledglings no long ran around playing games in the garden, the laughter no longer danced through the trees with the breeze, the Garden was alone and empty without the brightness of the young souls there to light it.

Trust was broken.

The messengers looked at their Master, as though waiting for him to run on them again, to leave them suffer in his wake again, and turned to the Second for commands instead. The silence was numbing, for a creature that was as social as the Messenger was, he was shunned from their circles in the same fashion he had shunned them when he'd left.

In the Infirmary, those that remained, shied away from the Healer when he returned in silence. They went about their duty, tending to those that needed it, the grand hall packed from wall to wall with bodies, the count nearing the three digits now. Oren was the only one to greet him, from afar, with a silent nod of recognition.

The Powers had taken to him upon arrival, standing at attention at his entrance, but the weariness in their eyes shined brightly back at him. They were tired, hated by most of the host, and because they had merely been following his orders. He shook his head, saddened by the way their shoulders dropped, turning from him once more to return to their positions from before his arrival.

His Pantheon stood as a looming figure above his head, though the doors be opened now, it was different in so many ways. Their silence rang loudest in his ears, their looks struck him like blades, and the distrust was palpable in the air around him as they looked at him with such brokenness. They had suffered through much persecution because of his actions.

They stood behind Him as He gazed from the top of the Throne Room's stairs, watching as His children slowly revealed themselves from their hiding spots, as they slowly began to search their family out of the broken space.

"Father, how do we begin to rebuild when they won't allow us to?"

He hummed under His breath, "It is the price that you must pay for your actions." He turned to peer at them over His shoulder "Though I can mend the physical damage I cannot begin to touch the mental." He turned back to watch the others reunite with their loved ones and friends alike and smiled at their happiness with warmth. "But forgiveness can come from the unlikeliest of places."

His eyes caught onto the swiftly moving fledgling weaving through the crowds, smiling as He watched her jump from stone to stone, a breath of fresh air through the hottest of days. That fledgling was the best of them, moving so freely despite the horrors her eyes must have witnessed, skipping along to her own beat as she weaved in and out and between bodies.

"Hope can come from even the smallest of forms."

They stepped forward to join Him on the edge, their gaze following His, staring down at the fledgling playing and skipping her way down the path towards the Garden. The Healer squinted, as though trying to get a better glimpse of her, and his eyes widened in epiphany, "She made it."

"Resilience came live in even the youngest of us."

He looked from side to side, at His four sons in turn, and gestured with a nudge of his chin towards the fledgling that was soon disappearing in the Garden.

"It is not about what was lost, it is about what has been overcome, they will come to you in time."

He turned to make His way back to the Throne Room, calling over his shoulder "I would watch that one. She's going to be one to keep track of. Even the littlest of creatures can have the most powerful affect."


	159. Stitches

**_Song listened to: 'Magic' by Icon For Hire._**

They're visits got more frequent after that, meeting in their secret spot in The Garden, they met in silence at first, he brought with him little trinkets the first few times, things he was able to salvage from the night of the fire and let her see them with her little fingers stroking over every angle of it. She would meet him there, singing to herself and the butterflies that flew around her head as she twirled in the long grass and flowers, coming to sit in front of him when he sat just in the shade of the tree line.

"Can I tell you a secret?"

He hummed from where he sat, back facing her, leaning back against the tree stump she sat perched on braiding flower petals in his hair "Always."

"Sometimes I feel like I'm half alive."

He turned to look at her over his shoulder, looking into those brilliant eyes with concern, and as her eyes met with his, her hands fell into her lap, allowing him to turn around.

"How so?"

She picked at a flower stock with her little fingers "Because everything is so _wrong_."

"But they will begin to get better again, now that Father has returned to us, you know how He detests the fighting."

Akeelah flicked the stock away and looked back up to meet his gaze again, crawling closer to the edge of the thick stump, and folded her legs under here when she reached the point she wanted to be.

"But you don't _know _that for sure." She reached for his hand and he silently gave it over, allowing her to bend his fingers this way and that, as her mind seemed to think of words to express her thoughts "History repeats itself, it always does, and I don't think we can make it through another war."

"You are not alone.", he closed his fingers around hers and gave them a gentle squeeze "We all fear that. But letting that fear dictate your life makes for a sad one. Look forward, Baby Power, not behind."

"But I can't stop thinkin' about it." She looked up at him and slowly crawled down from the stump she sat on, coming to sit in front of him instead, and he twisted with her to not force his hand out of hers "Everything is so _broken_."

"And can be rebuilt. Made better than before."

"But what if it breaks again?"

"Then I will protect you. You are my family. We protect each other."

Though she didn't look convinced, and he tugged her forward by the grip he had around her thin wrist, and she scooted forward to climb into his lap. She leaned back as his arms enclosed around her and he set his chin on top of her braids. She was a warm weight against his chest and it was something he was sure he would get used to.

"Look at it like a wound."

She seemed confused, turning slightly to look up at him with scrunched eyebrows and he gave her a look in return, to silently convey his desire for her just to hear him out.

"Okay."

Nisroc nodded and leaned back against the stump again, "Some wounds heal quick and cleanly, right?"

"Yep."

"And others need a bit more time, need to be stitched closed, in order for them to heal, you follow me?"

"I'm pickin up what you're throwin' down."

He nodded again "And those stitches take a long while to heal but they always do, right?" she nodded against him, her braids rubbing against his chin, "Well this is no different. The wound is a deep one, it needs many stitches, but even the deepest of wounds can heal with time."

"You think so?"

"I know so."

It went from secret meetings in the garden to the training field, where she would come up the steps cautiously, fingers curling around the stone entrance, peering around with timid fright at the new surroundings.

The others noticed her first, straightening from their various positions, as they worked on rebuilding their training fields one step at a time. Abraxos and Puriel exchanged looks, the closest to the unknown fledgling peeking around the field with care, half hidden in the shadows of the stone around her, and the Power recognized her after a moment. He remembered seeing those eyes in the Pantheon when they stormed it, hiding behind the leg of the guardian, before he brought him down and dragged him away, the fledgling that Nisroc had allowed to escape.

"Can we be of help to you?"

She jumped back when he reached out, eyes going wide, shaking as a wild animal does before, they bolted in fright and he froze in his approach. She couldn't be older then a few eons, a tiny runt of a thing, but he's heard of her ability to make it out of the tricky places. He had heard, as they all had, of when she had saved their Captain from meeting his end in the Grigoris attack.

He raised his hand, in a placating manner, and knelt slightly "It's okay. You're okay. I'm not going to hurt you."

"You hurt Jeremiah."

That threw him around, and left him unsure of how he should move on from it, no amount of apologizing would make up for the fact that he had taken her guardian from her.

"Where's Nisroc?"

She was still on edge, a hair trigger to bolt in the other direction, but there she remained as resolute as one so small could be. He pointed over his shoulder, towards where the benches were, and she leaned to the side to look over his shoulder to spot the bent back of her friend as he worked on mending them.

Abraxos stepped aside, waving a hand for the others to follow his lead, and they did in silent curiosity. She stared at him for a moment, as though expecting him to pounce when she stepped passed him, and when he didn't move from his place, she ran from him towards the benches.

Their Captain stumbled forward at the sudden impact from behind him, looking down when little arms managed to curl around his neck and clutch at the collar of his tunic, and he turned to look over his shoulder in surprise. Brilliant blue eyes stared back at him and turned quickly to look over her own shoulder towards the rest of them, and he followed to see them standing where they remained, watching them with close attention.

It was unusual for a fledgling to wander into their parts.

Nisroc curled an arm behind him, around her midsection, and stood from his kneeling position. She scrambled around to his front, curling around him in a better position then before, and he wrapped his left arm under her and turned to face the others completely.

"What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see you."

Akeelah leaned back on his arm, little hands curing over his shoulders, and he smiled at her "Did you?"

His fledgling friend nodded, "I didn't get to see you _all_ day!"

"I know. It must have been very boring." Again, she nodded as seriously as a fledgling her age could "I'm happy you've come to visit me. It's been a boring day for me as well."

"You're welcome."

He smiled at her and looked over her shoulder again at the others "Would you like to meet the other members of your family?" his young friend looked unsure as she gazed over her shoulder at the others "Will you stay with me?"

"I won't even set you down."


	160. Hoarse

**_Song listened to: 'Heaven Knows' by Hillsong UNITED_**

When she cried there was a rawness to it, like the pain was still an open wound. She would clasp onto something, anything, _anyone_, for support and then her whole body would shake with the force of her cries. The sobs were stifled at first as she tried to hide them from sight, tried to cement the strength that she was known for, then, overcome by the wave of her emotions she would break down entirely, all of her defenses washed away in her salty tears; the sarcasm and the wit, the walls that had been built to protect from the pain, everything, it all washed away in those salty tears.

When she finally turned to them, she was a picture of grief, loss, and devastation. The product of a war that had broken them all. Something that had been broken, from deep within, and had not been able to be truly stitched up again. The picture of their greatest mistake, the proof of the damage they could cause, the result of something that could have be prevented had they not blown things as much as they had.

It was the face of someone who had suffered before and didn't know if they were strong enough to do it again. It was the eyes of one who had seen so much more then they told and kept it to themselves for the sake of everyone else.

The windows to the torn soul, at the hands of those that were meant to protect them, as they had taken the proverbial bullet that they had shot. The pain was strong, all encompassing, and shone brighter than even the brightest star.

She was the picture of someone who had survived through horrors most would have fallen to, who had taken it all without denial and refusal to lose the battle struggling around them, and it would shine a pain in her eyes that she hid with practiced perfection behind a smile and childlike giggles. A true victim of a war that had not been hers to fight, but had still taken her captive, broken by the hands of those they were meant to trust.

And then the shutters would come down, the tears soaked back up, the emotion walled off behind the mask that had been perfected for a long time, as a way of coping with the trauma suffered in solitude. She would wear it until everything was right again, until they no longer saw her break, until they turned away again, and then it would crumble in the silence and solitude all over again.

She didn't know any other way.

But every now and then that mask would crack, the smile would falter, and the giggle would break. Her bright eyes would dim, sparkling with more than just childlike innocence that they all knew was stolen despite her brave attempts to prove otherwise.

Nisroc would found her in the Garden, in the spot they had met for the very first time, alone and silent in the surrounding trees, but her shoulders quaking with a force unseen. He would step around to her front, kneeling to lift away the little hands, and the red, tear-rimmed eyes would stare back at him. Watery streaks falling down a smooth face. He would stroke a hand down the back of her head, not uttering a word into the silence of the vulnerable moment and wipe away the tears fro the cheeks which were now blotchy and mottled. Her face was now washed with a dull red, all the way to the very end of her little nose, and he would just pull her into an embrace. Tight and strong. She would clutch to his front as more crystal-like tears soaked into his tunic, he would sit back, pulling her with him, and they would sit in the silence together.

The Healer would come to find her hiding in the far corner of his office, and he would step in gingerly, his previous occupation completely forgotten at the discovery and he would step quickly across the threshold and kneel before the distressed fledgling.

As she cried her bottom lip quivered, the same as a baby pushed passed endurance. Her eyes became glacier blue under the sheen of water, constant, yet allowing the tears to flow without pause. A rare moment of vulnerability that was not typically allowed by the strongest little fledgling he knew. The pain that as felt everyday in silent endurance finally allowed to be seen by another. In that moment, seeing her stare up at him with a broken watery reflection in her eyes, he understood the depth of pain that had been sitting just below her skin, the pain she kept to herself to save everyone else from the heart break.

He let the tears flow, it was healthier to let it out, after all, then it was to bottle up. But he would lean forward and curls his fingers around her midsection, as he pulled her up to sit in his lap and she would curl into his chest as another wave crashed free from the deep sea of emotion.

The Choir Master would be jerked awake to violent shaking of the little body next to him. He'd rub at his eyes, not really sure why he had woken in the first place, and the violent jerking to his left would make him look down to see what was the cause of it. His little charge was curled up on her side, curled into a tight ball, facing the other direction and shaking like a leaf.

Her breaths were uneven and hitched occasionally, her little shoulders and form shaking with the force of the silent sobs.

At first he thought it a bad dream, she had them frequently when it stormed out, and as lightning lit up the sky through the great window of his bedroom, he heard the small softness of a sniffle, which brought him to the conclusion that she wasn't having a bad dream, for she wasn't sleeping.

He would lay back down, facing her on his side, and reach out to grab her with his free arm. Pulling her around to hide instead in his chest, he would press his face into her curls as she heaved with the same silent sobs that had woken him from sleep, neither of them would sleep that night, not until he felt her silently cry herself out.

The oldest found her in his office, sitting in his chair, bent over to hide herself on the wide desk surface. Her shoulders shook, and he walked into the office, softly dismissing the Power that had come with him, though Puriel would remain where he stood.

He would set a large gentle hand on the top of her head and she would look up at him.

A single tear would roll down her cheek, and then another, and another. Stinging the already tear stained face. Her little eyes now filling with tears glistening in the light, bouncing sadness through the atmosphere.

The Prince would kneel, turning his chair around, and pull her to him. With one rough, but gentle, hand under her chin, he angles her face toward him and kissed the tears away.

Gabriel found her sitting in his room, perched on his bed, fingers curled tightly in the blanket he curled up in during sleep. She would have her face buried in it, and as he sat on the edge of his bed, he'd pull it away with a gentleness not all would associate to him.

He refused to look away as she looked up at him, even as her lips trembled and her shoulders heaved with emotion, unwilling to back down.

Her dark lashes brimmed heavy with tears; her hands clenched tight around his blanket in shaking fists, in a desperate battle against the grief that haunted her in her silence and crafted masks.

A lone tear traced down her cheek, and just like that, the floodgates would open. She wept, tears streaming from her deep blue eyes, loud, heaving sobs tearing from her throat, and still he did not look away.

The Messenger let go of his blanket, in favor of wrapping it around her, letting the warmth help sooth some of the unseen pain away, and he would curl her close as she let him see her break.

They would all find her, back in the Garden, having come in search for the young fledgling that always asked her to play with her on the day of rest, when she did not turn up in their Pavilion. Joshua would turn at their approach, eyes glistening with pain and sadness, and would turn his head slightly for them to step up and witness what he did.

As much as their Baby Power tried to hold it in, her little body shaking from the effort, the pain came out like an uproar from her throat in the form of a silent scream. Hands clenched into tight little fists, she bent forward with the silent force, tears streaming down her pained face. The beads of water falling down one after another without any sight of stopping. She fell to her knees, the wall crumbling, and tidal wave crashing to the surface, all the pain and heartbreak she kept safely hidden away now pouring for all those close enough to witness. The muffled sobs wracked against her heaving chest.

The world turned into a blur, and so did all other sounds, the taste, the smells. Everything was gone. The last painful emotion slammed against her before she lost the feeling of feeling. Numbness took hold, overpowering the agony of the invisible wound, and everything darkened into nothingness as she passed into the oblivion of unconsciousness, the last thing she saw being the dark silhouettes of bodies coming closer and closer.


	161. Whimper

**_Song listened to: 'Right Here' by Ashes Remain_**

**_AN: I made a playlist of the songs I used thus far! If you wanna check it out there's a link in my bio! And one here!_**

**_Link: playlist?list=PLLzgKx1T2XJkfPzeiUHGLhd4aBVoc7uBb_**

It came as a soft sound in the night, barely heard over the howling of the winter wind outside of the bedroom window, but it was right against his ear and thus it was hard to miss. He woke slowly, looking first into the flickering warm flames of the roaring hearth, and it whispered again into his ear, bringing him to turn slightly, more awake then in the previous moment.

She lay curled up above him, resembling that of a cat curling up for comfort and warm, laying on a majority of his pillow. Her back pressed to the side of his head, and the sound whispered among the room again, the softness of a whimper came to him, and he sat up slowly.

"Little 'Keelah?"

Her slumber didn't stir, but her little balled up form did fall tense for a moment, curling in tighter for the briefest of moments before she relaxed again. He waited a moment, waiting to see if it would happen again, and when there was no further indication to it, he turned to lay back down.

That was when she woke, a slight call on her lips, pushing herself upwards as she quickly uncurled from her claimed spot.

"Come here, my little one."

He kept his tone soft as he called out to her, not wanting to startle to frightened fledgling even more, and he held his arms out when she turned to look at him with frightened eyes. She slowly uncurled even more, turning to crawl across the bed, pulling herself up into his arms. He encircled them around her, holding her close, as he made to lay back down again.

She lay against his chest, fingers curling slightly into his tunic, and he tucked her head under his chin.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

She shook her head quickly, burrowing into his chest deeper, and her fingers clenched onto his tunic tightly. He rubbed a hand down the back of her head, over her back, and nodded against he head lightly.

"Okay."

The wind howled against the window outside, snow swirling around like dancing fairies, and they both watched it for a while as neither wanted to fall asleep before the other.

"Do you want me to sing to you?"

She nodded silently, clutching tightly to his top, and he sighed in return as he wracked his brain for something. It had been so long since he'd sung lullabies to young ones and none came to the forefront immediately. But one did, an old one, Michael used to hum it to him when he was younger.

_'__I can see every tear you've cried_

_Like an ocean in your eyes_

_All the pain and the scars have left you cold'_

His voice was deep and smooth as it curled around the room, soft and just over the crackling of the burning wood, just over the wind against the window, and she fell still to listen.

_'__I can see all the fears you face_

_Through a storm that never goes away_

_Don't believe all the lies that you've been told'_

A hand rubbed over the back of her head, stroking the curls back, as it travelled down to rub soothing over her back. He knew she was listening, as her fingers slowly loosened their grip, kneading slightly instead.

_'__I'll be right here now_

_To hold you when the sky falls down_

_I will always'_

Her breathing slowly began to even out, her kneading slowly to a gentle stop, and he wrapped them tighter in his thick blanket.

_'__Be the one who took your place_

_When the rain falls_

_I won't let go_

_I'll be right here'_

He smiled to himself as she finally took a deep sigh and her eyes stopped fluttering open in an attempt to fight off sleep, still rubbing softly at her back. He watched her sleep for a bit, making sure she would not wake again suddenly, and when she made no move to do so, he too settled down against his pillow.


	162. Backhand

They should have known of course, that with Nisroc being made aware, that things were only going to get worse with them. Sorath was worked to the bone, training every morning with the Captain himself would make anyone question the choices that had gotten them there, but this new recruit was not like the others, and the burning anger towards those two only burned brighter.

Paul and Akeelah made sure they avoided him, they were not too blind to not see the glares sent their way as they sat on the benches watching the Powers train, they saw the way he looked at them and they felt the heat of hatred that heated the air around him, they made sure they never found themselves alone with him, even if it meant they were subjected to more attention to certain areas that would go unnamed, they knew that they were safe from harms way.

But even then, things changed, and schedules changed and they found themselves along for the first time in a long time.

As punishment for the latest prank they'd played, after Haniel had let them go from his on revenge, was the polish the boots in the armory, it was no surprise that the first location of their first meeting turned into the same place that the second meeting would take place there too.

Paul passed Titus's left boot to his friend and dipped the rag into the bucket of soaping water, and scrubbed the muddy spot on the side, poking his tongue out in determination. Haniel had told him with great detail about what he would do to him if his boots weren't sparkling, and added in his little friend for the kicks of it and because he could.

The door opened behind them, "I swear we're almost done!"

"You."

That was not Nisroc, and that was not Haniel, that voice was none of the ones who liked them. They turned to look over their shoulders in surprise at the voice. Sorath stood there, glaring at them with a hatred that could burn, looking as though he had just returned from a hard day of training. He was covered in mud, and most certainly just as many bruises, and they both scurried to their feet and backed away. Akeelah tripped over the bucket and stumbled back, as their common enemy advanced on them with ease, and Paul caught her before she could hit the floor, pulling her back with him as he helped her steady herself back on her feet.

"You two ruined my life."

Sorath stalked forward, fists clenched tightly at his sides, not seeming to care in the slightest that he was stalking after two young angels. Even after all the hand on hand combat training with the Captain every morning, his attitude had not changed, and it seemed to only have gotten worse since Nisroc had taken direct attention to the matter.

"You two made them question me ability."

No matter how hard he tried to steady her, Akeelah fell into the soapy water on the floor, and Paul stopped to guard her from the front, holding up his two fists in the way he'd seen Abraxos do during training.

"I don't understand why they care for you two so much!" despite his training, Paul couldn't help but feel a bit out of his league, he was in training and Sorath had been made a Power "You're a pathetic bunch."

"We're kids, you creep!" He glared heatedly at the fledgling slowly rising from the ground "Just wait until Nisroc hears about this!"

"He's not going to."

Paul stepped forward as though he stood a chance in stopping the grown Power from approaching. Behind him, Akeelah crab crawled backward, and Paul took a step forward.

"We'll tell him and then he'll kick your butt."

He'd say _'ass' _but last time he said that, him and Akeelah both, his beloved guardian had washed their mouths out with soap and threatened to do it again if he ever heard they had used such language again. Even though he wasn't here, they weren't willing to try it, soap tasted nasty.

"Yea!"

When got too close, taking one out of his friends book, Paul reeled his fist back and let it fly with as much force as he could, catching the approaching recruit square in the jaw. Sorath went stumbling back from the blow, holding a hand to the bruising cheekbone.

"You _little-!"_

Paul never saw it coming, therefore he didn't have time to duck under it, but he did feel the sting of the ring that dug into his cheek as he was sent sprawling backwards into his friend behind him. Akeelah shrieked when he crashed into her, and they both scooted backwards, ignoring the ache in his cheek as he did. His friend grabbed one of Puriel's boots and threw it at the approaching Power, and followed with one of Nisroc's.

"How _dare _you!"

"What is going _on _here?"

They peered around the recruit at the voice that rang through the armory, and just like on their first fated meeting, there stood their savor in the form of the Captain. Nisroc looked furious, his fists shaking at his side, though he restrained his anger with practiced ease . He stalked into the room, his armor covered in the dirt from training, and took hold of the recruits neck with a sharpness that gave way to his fearsome strength on the battlefield.

"I _know _you did not just strike _my _charge."

Sorath stuttered, hands reaching up to grip at the Captains, struggling to free himself as the Elder Power motioned for the young boy to join him. Paul looked uneasy on it, but trusted his guardian not to lead him wrong, and scurried back to his feet to meet at his side as ordered to, and Nisroc took his chin gently with his free hand, turning it to the side to examine the cut on his cheek, his own ring shining in the light as he pat his cheek lightly, "It'll heal. Nothing too deep." He held his hand out to the fledgling and she ran forward to grasp his fingers, "Go, you two, Haniel was looking for you." He looked back to the recruit struggling in his grasp "I believe we have to have _more _words."


	163. Bed Rest

_**Song listened to: 'Not Alone' by Red. **_

For a young energetic fledgling that she was, adventurous and as freely moving as the wind was itself, always managing to get into everything there was to get into, being confined to a bed was not an ideal position and she made sure that everyone who passed knew of her distaste for the situation at hand. The other healers were exasperated by the time the day began shifting into night, having dealt with the mood swings and stubbornness that only children could have when they were ill and ordered to stay in bed when they would much rather be out exploring and playing in the war, rather then be stuck in bed all day. The Healer had been called away, leaving them all to tend to the stubborn little fledgling, and it was safe to say that most of them were at their wits end.

Rosemary turned at the light touch to her arm, meeting the eyes of the one they had waited on baited breath to return to them, and they chuckled at the light that shined in her eyes at the relief that they had returned. He held his hand out for the medicine that the younger healer had been trying, for what he was sure was the past hour or so, to administer to the young patient who had in turn pulled the blankets up over her head of curls and refused to come out again. He waved the young healer back to her other duties, which she did with much haste, and he chuckled again as he stepped over to sit on the edge of the bed. He pat the mound under the blankets gently, but firmly, and sat back to watch it squirm at the sudden encouragement.

"Come, out from under the blankets with you."

The mound moved a bit more, crawling upwards toward the pillow, and soon he was graced with a head of wild curls poking out from underneath and the eyes hazed with sickness brightening at the sight that waited the, and the crawled out from their blanket completely.

"Big brother, you're back!"

Raphael chuckled, raising his arms slightly as the fledgling crawled out fro under the blanket completely, and over the bed to climb into his lap.

"I am, indeed." He curled his arms around her "Have you been behaving for the others?"

She nodded assuredly, "Yes!"

From their right came a soft snort, and they both turned to watch the Virtue Captain's eyes widen at the sudden attention and turn quickly in the other direction. The Healer smiled softly at them all, turning to look back at his ill charge, pressing his temple to hers with ease.

"It was a trick question."

The fledgling smiled at him, something of which he returned, and kissed her small button nose. He leaned back, pulling her back with him, and uncurled one arm to show the bottle of medicine that was to be taken, and the fledgling made a face at the mere sight of it.

"You must take your medicine now."

"But it tastes _yucky_!"

"It is medicine, it is not meant to be tasteful, it is meant to heal you."

"It's _still_ yucky!"

He gave her a look, holding out the small cup for her to drink from, and she eyed him for a moment before reaching out to take it up. She knew, of course, that she would stay abstinent against the others who tried to get her to down the medicine, but she would never overpower his resolve. The Healer chuckled again at the face she made after chugging the medicine down in one quick gulp, standing slightly, lifting her to tuck her back under the blanket.

"Perhaps when you are better we shall get some peaches to rid the taste from your tongue."

Akeelah looked up at him with bright eyes, snuggling down under her blanket, "You mean it?"

"I swear to you that we will. So long as you take your medicine as you should."

She nodded seriously, holding out her hand for him, "Deal."


	164. Crash

_**(Stand in the Rain—Superchick)**_

When all four archangels were away, whether on business, or on their own mission, Oren took control of the fledgling when she graced them with her presence in the Infirmary. Most all of the Virtues did, despite being warriors as they were, the were _still _healers on top of that. They were often left in charge of things when their Master had to leave for some time.

He knew that the fledgling detested being alone, a byproduct of self-imprisonment, so it was no surprise when Jeremiah turned up one night with the little thing perched on his hip cradling a small twisted arm mindfully to his chest.

"What happened?" The Virtue lead them to an empty bed, stepping aside for the Choir elder to set their shared fledgling on the bed, allowing her to hold onto the twisted appendage instead "I wish I knew the answer. She refuses to tell anyone what happened to cause such an injury. And when she refuses to do something it is hell to pay to get her to do so." Oren nodded in understanding, sharing a slightly exasperated glance between themselves, both knowing the stubbornness that could be wrought from this young one.

He motioned for another healer to gather a splint and bandages, and Esharial scurried off to gather what was needed from him, the Virtue Captain turned to look at the Elder once more "Are you staying with her?"

A saddened look crossed his features "I loath to leave her here on her own, but I fear that Sariel may cause a bit too much damage with her panicking if I do not return to reign it in. Honestly," he shook his head in further exasperation and Oren found that he did not pity the Elder in the slightest "She is still fighting an unseen war and needs to see the peace that has been built between us. Sometimes I can see why the fledgling avoids her like she's a plague of some sort."

Oren placed a hand over the Elder's shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze "She will not be on her own here. We are all with her." Jeremiah nodded, reaching up to clasp the hand on his shoulder "I thank you, my friend." They shared another nod and he released the Elders shoulder as he knelt to give his parting farewell to the fledgling and turned to make his way through the dark back to the Pantheon. Oren gladly took the supplies that Esharial returned with, thanking him softly, and though for a moment more "Esharial, can I get you to do me one more thing?" the healer glanced at the silent little fledgling and nodded at the inquiry sent to him on the matter unknown "Can you fetch someone for me?"

"At once. Who are we seeking, Sir?"

The Virtue turned to look back at the fledgling once more, taking in her clouded eyes, lost in thoughts he was not privy to, and therefore unsure as to really help the matter that was being faced. Afterall, it was one thing to heal the physical damage, and another completely to heal the damage that had forced them to commit such an action against themselves.

"The Powers."

Esharial looked confused, if a bit more curious then so, and tilted his head "_All _of them?" he too turned to look at the fledgling in question of what could have been done that required the involvement of the Powers "Are you sure a mere break is warrant enough to gather them?"

Oren nodded, turning an inquisitive look to the younger healer "I did not ask out of wrong doing, if she will not tell us what happened, she will surely tell them. Both parties are quite fond of each other, she's known them longer than anyone else excluding the Archangels, leaving it more likely the trust is deeper then it would be to anyone else." He nodded once "Gather as many that are willing to come." The younger healer didn't look convinced on the matter, which was no matter in itself, the Virtue knew what he was doing and would trust him not to lead them all wrong while their Archangel was away so he nodded once and went on his way. The Virtue watched him disappear in the shadows of the night and turned once more the fledgling on hand, sitting on the edge of the bed, he reached for the injured arm, which she handed over without complaint, and he gave a soft apology as he pulled the bone straight again. The apology was for not though, as she did not whimper from pain, the little thing didn't so much as flinch, trapped in whatever thoughts had ensnarled her within their grasp.

"What happened, little warrior?"

Silence followed his inquiry, as he splinted the little arm and bound it with a wrap of bandages, the silence was to be expected as he was not considering there to be an answer. He knew just as well as Jeremiah had spoken, the fledgling was stubborn to her cure, and would not bend to the will of others if she did not desire to, even if that will was a mere question. Instead he secured the bandage and adjusted the splint underneath, wrapped her in a warm blanket, and waited for the young healer to return with his aid.

Still, he sat with her, the silence falling over then both, he watched her as she reached down with her good hand to scratch at her little foot and then curled back into herself. Oren sighed, scratching at his chin, and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees as they waited in silence for Esharial to return.

A few of the healers turned in surprise at their entrance, not understanding what was bad enough that it required their involvement, but dared not question it and so they stared from afar as they approached the bed that the Virtue and fledgling sat on in a blanket of silence.

A hand on his shoulder had him looking up again, his gaze meeting that of the one who interrupted his silent contemplation, and he smiled at the relief that filled within him at Esharial's return and those he brought with him. He had, of course, known that the Captain would surely come at the call, but was slightly awed at the whole of them joining him.

Nisroc smiled down to him, hoping to ease his weariness, "What is the problem, Oren?"

He motioned behind him, the fledgling having twitched in their direction at the sound of the Power's voice, and the other raised a hand for one of his men to step forward to see to what was theirs. Titus stepped away from them, bending down to whisper to the fledgling huddled on the bed, and she nodded in return, lifting both arms to the desire of being picked up. The Power stood, taking her up into his arms, and turned away from them as he swayed from side to side in a silent effort to calm her.

Puriel and Abraxos joined them some moments later, whispering to her in hushed tones over their brother's shoulder, and she raised her bad arm silently for them to see the bandages. Puriel rubbed a hand over the top of her braided head and Abraxos gentle grasped the fingers that poked free from the bound casting.

Nisroc's eyes narrowed slightly as he took it in "What happened to the Baby's arm?" to which the Virtue shrugged "I was hoping you could tell me. She refuses to speak to anyone. Not the Choir elder, not me, I figured you would have better luck." The Power nodded "I will see what can be done. You know her stubbornness."

That gained him a chuckle, "It is legendary in these parts." To which a snort was received at the acknowledgement. The Captain grasped his arms in a squeeze and turned to take their charge up in arms, relieving Titus of her, upon seeing him coming the fledgling sat up straighter and reached for him.

He held her close, whispering down to her in the same hushed tones, as he turned them both back to the bed that had just been occupied. He sat them back down, leaning back into the pillows, and settled her against his chest. Her little fingers, of her good hand, curled into the dark blue tunic he wore, and the others gathered around the edges. They completely surrounded her, hiding both of them from the view of others, and Oren turned to move on to the next patient knowing that she was in good hands.

"What happened?" he brushed a braid back behind her ear and tilted her head up with a knuckle under her chin, she did not respond at first and though her head be tilted up she averted her gaze to avoid his, a gentle finger brushed down the bridge of her nose "Come now, you are among family here. Tell us what happened so that we may help."

Her eyes flitted up instinctively at the finger that brushed over her nose, and once their gazes locked, she could not look away.

"I didn't mean to."

"Didn't mean to what?" Puriel spoke up from her left and she turned to look at him "Did something happen?"

"Sorta…I was walking down the Axis, like I usually do, humming under my breath and minding my own, like I do."

They nodded in unison, they had more then once gone with her in gathering of new supplies and new clothing, it had been a mere few days ago since she had joined Titus and Puriel to look for new tunics as theirs had become thread bare.

"And then?" Titus spoke from her left too, a bit farther then Puriel, and she looked down at him too, her fingers curling tighter into Nisroc's tunic "And then I ran into 'im. He was mad 'cause I got his captain locked away."

"Who?" Haniel was uncharacteristically somber, the typically playful Power knew when the time to be serious was at hand, and coming to be made aware that their youngest member had met odds that ended with a broken arm, was most certainly one of those times "Who was angry at you?"

"Gzrel. He was mad that Theo was taken away."

"And he did this?", the Captain spoke up in silent rage, though not directed to the fledgling he held securely in his hold, and lifted the bandaged arm with tenderness "He broke your arm?"

She shook her head, leaving them confused and concerned, and turned to look up at the Captain "No. I did it. He grabbed me and tried to take me somewhere, and I did it breaking free, and ran all the way to the Pantheon to find Jeremiah 'cause the Pavilion was too far away."

Abraxos whistled softly in thought "That was some grip."

"Nis, it hurts."

Her soft whimper had them all focusing in, she was theirs to protect, as a member of their family and her pain was shared between them all. He pulled her close, curling the blanket draped over the edge of the bed around them, nodding to them all to send one to get Oren, or any one of the Virtues, and their Captain joined them a moment after Haniel had stepped away.

The healer handed over a small mug of thick looking juice, softly instructing her to drink it all, and smiled when his fellow Captain aided her in her drinking with a fingers guiding it upwards from the bottom, once she smelled the odd smelling mug of thick substance. "Drink it all, it will help with the swelling, and tone the pain." She made a face at the taste but took another sip with the guidance from the Power she laid with. He chuckled at each varying face of disgust she made when she sipped and reached for a jar on the side table "And perhaps, since I care for you so, some peppermint to help with the taste." She sipped at it again, with the added ingredient, and this time didn't need the urging to take another sip. Oren looked between them all with amusement, "I take it you will all be joining us on this night?" it was amusing to see the tiny fledgling surrounded by the deadliest of legions, they were truly such soft hearts when it came to the young ones they took under their care, and it amused him truly. He nodded in understanding when they all sat back in various positions for comfort and bid them all a good night as he turned to return to his other duties.

"We will visit this Grel tomorrow."

She nodded, as she finished her drink, and burrowed down into the dark blue tunic of her older friend.

Oren made his way back around to check on them a few hours later, as things started to calm down in the Infirmary, and he snorted as he reached for the blankets on a few of the empty beds around them. They had indeed stayed the night, falling asleep in various positions, but never turning away from their charge. He draped a blanket over both Puriel and Haniel, the two of them having fell asleep leaning back in their chairs, crossing their feet over the edge of the bed. One of Abraxos who had fallen into slumber along the end of the bed. And the last over Titus where he had fallen under in a similar position to the first two, on the right side, and stood at the end to see them all in their entirety again, chuckled to himself, and turned to ensure the others were asleep as well.


	165. Dread

**_Song listened to: 'Look What You Made Me Do' by Taylor Swift._**

Honestly, they had not expected the fledgling to accomplish the impossible task of stealing the Power Captains sword right out from under his nose, thus when she returned with it sometime later, they stood in surprise at it. She glared at the three of them as she held it out, Donavon took it in wonder, fingers curling around the jeweled hilt as softly as they could.

"How…How did you get it?"

She stepped aside, smiling kindly to them, and they felt dread settle in the bottom of their bellies when he stepped through the darkened doorway behind her, he set a hand on her head and came to stop at her side.

"I heard you had wanted to see it and gave it to her.", he held his hand out "Now I do believe you have something of mine, Donavon?"

The youngling stammered, clearly thrown off his game now that he was caught, clearly not having expected the Power to find out of the game that he had been playing for the last few weeks. He held the treasured sword out to him, and the Power's large hand curled around the end of the sheath and lifted it from his grasp.

"You—You know my name?"

Nisroc nodded, "Of course I know your name. I know the names of all the young trainees. As it is me who you all report to, and in turn, should it necessitate such, I report to the Commander. Just as I know you two; Thanos," he nodded to the redheaded boy, "And Sashael, though you prefer to go by Sasha, don't you?" the dark-haired boy nodded shakily.

He surveyed the three of them "Which one of you has been into blackmailing as of late?" though they appeared to be in cahoots with one another, it seemed the idea of punishment for it only went so far, as both Thanos and Sasha pointed to the third, and Donavon went pale, and still he knelt, "We have no place among us for those that dishonorable." He tilted his head to meet his gaze once more "And such behavior is an afront against _myself _as it was _I_ who picked you for advancement." He reached out to grasp the young boy's chin securely, but gently, he was not a rough angel when it came to correcting wrongdoings, depending on the afront made, "And if I _ever _hear of such behavior again, I will deal with it _personally_. Do I make myself clear?"

The Captain nodded, releasing his chin, nodding in approval when the boy looked down thoroughly chastised, and pat his cheek softly as he stood back up. He sent a pointed look to all three of them, one he hoped they heeded to closely "I will be watching now, seeing as this is the return, I get for my kind gesture, I will not fail you nor will I give up on you. You will learn this lesson fast, and if you don't, I will teach it to you with a firmer hand. We do not steal from one another, from _anyone_, and if I am to find out it happens again you will all feel the sting of my belt on your bare rears." He gave them each a pointed look and they went red in the face, nodding quickly, even as they took a step backwards as though he would decide to keep to his word now too, "I will forgive this only once, do you understand me?" they nodded quickly again, seeming to deflate upon knowing that they would be spared the sting of the belt this time, at least two of them swearing not to do it again, his stern expression only lasted a moment longer, "If you need to know, you would not be the first ones to meet such an end, and I doubt you would be the last; come morning you can ask Erathaol about it."

They watched as the mighty Captains expression went from stern to kind, smiling at each of them in turn, and leaned forward to pat the other two on the cheek in fond fashion as well, "Now to bed with you all. It is late and you are still young angels. Therefore, it is time for bed."

Nisroc watched them nod silently, scurrying to climb into their bunks, and held his hand out for the fledgling to take as they too turned to make their leave "Are you staying with me tonight?" she didn't respond, except for rubbing at her eyes with a little fist, and tugging on his hand for him to pick her up to which he did in quick succession. He smiled when she laid her head on his shoulder, "I'll take that as a 'yes' then."


	166. Falling

**_Song listened to: 'Chasing the Sun' by Arrows to Athens_**

From the safety of her friends arms, they approached the others where they had gathered in the middle of the field, watching their captain interact with the fledgling that had so courageously ventured into their midst unprovoked. Nisroc nodded at the group of them, nodding towards the fledgling, "This is our Baby Power."

They didn't question him on it but their confusion was evident on the matter.

Nisroc turned her first to see the one who had greeted her "This is Abraxos." She looked up at him nervously "He hurt Jeremiah." The Power Captain nodded sadly "He did and has lived with the guilt for such a long time, he is the same as me and didn't want to do such things but was forced to." She turned to look the other up and down, he was short, shorted then Nisroc was but taller then her (though that wasn't quite an accomplishment). He had bright green eyes and short dark hair, buzzed thinly, but looked unmistakably happy to have met her. He waved to her in greeting "Hello, little one." She ducked back in her friends arms shyly but waved a few fingers back in return of the gesture.

Then she was turned to another, taller then the last one, eyes shining bright with humor and a smile completely his bright features. His hair was longer, brighter in shade, and brushed just passed his shoulders. "This is Haniel." She swallowed back a soft giggle when the Power reached out to poke her belly in greeting "Nice to meet you Baby Power!" he winked at her knowingly and she ducked back in her friends arms away from him, before he could reach out another poke.

Her older friend gestured to the big angel on Haniel's right side, he was bigger then the others were, though not as big as Nisroc was. His blonde curls shown in contrast to his dark skin, his eyes a shining blue as he looked over at her in turn "This is Titus." The new one nodded slightly, looking as though he wished to reach out in the same fashion as the one to his left, but unlike Haniel, was able to refrain for the moment.

To Titus's right they turned now "And we have Puriel too." His eyes were a soft amber, glistening like rubies in the sunlight. He wasn't as big as the other ones, looking a lot like her friend Zaveriel did in form, but she knew that in order for him to be a Power that he was stronger then he looked. He smiled at her softly, a silent greeting, and she smiled back shyly from the safety of her friends arms.

Nisroc looked down to the fledgling on his arm "This is your family."

"We've never had a fledgling before!" Haniel was excited, and she giggled softly when her friend rolled his eyes in amusement, "Can I poke her belly again? The sound she makes is adorable!"

"Later."

Akeelah wrapped her free arm around her belly protectively, glaring at them all as if challenging them to even try, Nisroc bounced her lightly "It is a challenge you will not win, Baby Power."

"Don't you dare!"

"Well, now I simply must, since you _ordered_ me not to." He adjusted his hold on her, resting her on his hip instead, and curled his fingers from her outer side around her thin wrist to keep it in place "Let me see this, now." It had been some time since they had a young angel in their midst and one as close as she was, and they shared a smile at the way their Captain melted to her being there, and at the bright soft giggling that blew around them in the wind when he poked a finger into various places on her belly.

"Welcome to the family, Baby Power."


	167. Judgement

_**Song listened to: 'Funhouse' by P!nk.**_

"Sir, not to question your judgement, but are you sure this is a good idea?"

Michael looked over to him in amusement "Saying such at the beginning of a statement insinuates you mean to question my judgement."

His captain sent a look in his direction, watching closely as his charge and little friend were each given a weapon of their choosing; the elder choosing the short blade and the younger the two daggers that were to be gifted when she was older. Sorath stood on the other side, his own blade in hand, standing ready to fight his oncoming attackers, and that was what the Commander was hoping for.

Neither little Akeelah or young Paul would hold back, they did not know the constraint of doing so yet, and with him being surrounded under the watchful gazes of the Powers and Commander himself, Sorath was bound to fight fair lest he be struck down before completing the task at hand.

It was simple enough, defeat them fairly, and he would keep his place among the Commanders Powers. But should he fail, he would be disgraced, there was no room among his ranks for those without honor and to attack to young ones without their own capability to fight back was most certainly dishonorable. He chose his personal legion very carefully, his Powers could recommend any they thought deserved a place among them, but in the end it was his decision to be made. He had chosen each of them by hand, not just for their ability to be fierce on the battle field, he could trust them entirely, not to bow down until the job was done, but also for their ability to know the difference between battle and not. They were tough when needed and soft when not, their compassion is what stuck out to him, and watching from the sidelines the way they cared for their young charges he knew he had picked correctly.

That being said, any who did make it passed his judgement, such as on the word of his Captain in regard to this one, could be exiled from his faction even after sorted in. It did not happen often and only to those who truly earned such a decree of punishment and shame. Gabriel had exiled Metatron from his faction upon learning of what the scribe had done to the rest of the host, some still hadn't been found from that impromptu fall, and from the words of the young ones most of those left missing were fledglings. Just as Raphael had exiled Naomi from his own faction, after having witnessed what his teachings had really been used for, he was meant to provide comfort to pain, not cause pain that then needed the comfort.

When an angel was exiled from their faction, they were exiled through the rest, often sent down to earth, so long as they weren't war criminals, and diminished to nothing but miracle making guardians to the human race. Which in itself was a faction, and those who chose said faction did so with pride, but being exiled to that faction bared you from returning to Heaven lest you be given permission, it was the only difference between those who chose that faction and those who were sent there afterwards.

He nodded to the other, Sorath looked prepared, but he wasn't just Commander because of his status as Heavens Sword. He knew his warriors; the good and the bad, like the back of his hand, and gestured for Nisroc to follow his gaze.

"Look there, he is resting on the balls of his feet, whereas our young friends rest on their toes." He gestured with a nod towards the two young angels looking their opponent up and down, taking in what they could see between strength and weakness, there was a few that his well trained eye picked up on immediately and he wondered if they had as well. Just how bright his two unofficial pupils were. "He is already committing one error, he is underestimating his opponent on appearance alone, they will not go easy on him." Michael gave his captain a side glance "I _know _that _you _have been teaching them. I've seen, and am impressed with how quick they learn, they work well together." The key to being on a team, such as the Powers, was the ability to work with those around you. You had to be fluid, using the other as an advantage, where they slashed, you would stab, and so on. It was a dance, between two or more persons, one of precision and coordination, and from what he's seen thus far has left him impressed from it coming from two so young.

Akeelah, at least a head shorter then her friend, knelt slightly, covering his front and sat coiled like a spring ready to pounce at a moments notice. Whereas Paul, the taller of the two of them, stood above, falling into a fighting stance of his own, twirled the blade in his hand in similar fashion that his guardian did when preparing for a match of his own (something that caused the Archangel to snort in amusement to) before settling to rest, crouched slightly, on the balls of his feet.

Honestly, the engagement was not all that exciting to watch, from someone who had been gifted a position in the Powers, Sorath was taken down much too soon for someone that was supposed to be best of the best. He surged forward, at the call of the start, and they stayed where they stood in wait, only striking when he struck first.

Paul met his swing in turn, twirling the blades around, and Akeelah surged forward with ease, nicking the recruits lower legs as she did, had they been allowed to truly do as they intended, she would have just severed his hamstrings and left him paralyzed in the fight.

When he stumbled, her friend met his stumble head on, twirling the blade around and jammed the hard end of the hilt into his left side.

Michael hummed in approval, whispering to his Captain "He favors his left side. Was he injured in training?" and his captain could only shrug, too captivated in watching his two students show just how well they had taken to his teachings, he knew he shouldn't have and that his Commander would frown upon it later (though not give him the order for it to be stopped—notedly), what with one being in beginners classes and the other too young to weld a blade unsupervised but he was under the impression it was better for one to know how to defend themselves then to rely on others to do it for you.

Such as what had been proven that one night months ago, when their Archangels were gone, and the Hell Knights had managed to take all the faction legions hostage, and though the Powers would never admit to being rescued by a fledgling and youngling, they did owe it to them.

Sorath yelled when his little opponent nicked his right tendon a bit too deeply, and Michael called in a gentle tone "Subdue only." To which he would swear he saw her groan and roll her eyes to at a later time. From there, it was pure entertainment, his Powers cheering on the two young ones from the sides, even his Captain joining in with pride, as the youngling took on the brunt of the attack. He allowed the distraction for his young friend to crawl under the recruits legs unseen, a major error on the elders part in remaining ever vigilant, and little Akeelah silently made her way to the benches that their engagement was quickly heading towards.

Paul sent him forward with a wild swing to the midsection, and in the error in previous judgement, as the recruit jumped back, the fledgling on the bench jumped forward. He yelled out when she landed on his back, clinging to him like a baby monkey does its mother, and brought one dagger up to the side of his neck and the other under, both poised to the jugular.

"To your knees."

Her tone was sharp, hard, but softer then the wind and that perhaps made it even more terrifying. The recruit shook his head, hissing as the blades of the daggers dug in harder, and she repeated herself. The friend joined in, blade raised evenly to his chest, both hands curled around the hilt, end of the blade tucked under the others chin. Perhaps allowing them to have range with the one who tormented them was an error on his part but Michael figured there was no turning back time to stop it (and part of him was happy on that fact) and thus they stood by and watched.

Sorath gasped when the dagger drew blood, it dripped under his ear, and slowly dropped his blade. The shame of being defeated by two child angels was overwhelming and he felt his face heat up from it, in front of the elder Powers and the Commander himself was adding insult to injury on his pride. He held his hands up in a placating manner, slowly dropping himself to his knees, and when she was close enough the little baby monkey withdrew from his back to stand in the grass behind him.

Michael stepped forward when he saw the red drip from under the recruits chin "I said subdue _only_."

"But he's gotta say he lost!"

"_Subdue only."_

The fledgling had the audacity to try and glare at him from over her defeated opponents shoulder.

"He _lost _and he gotta _say _so!"

"_Akeelah _you will _release _him."

"_He's gotta say it!"_

Nisroc stepped forward in time with him, easily disarming his own charge, and tucking him into his side. They would discuss the matter later, the boy knew he had broken the rules outlined for them and looked down contrite.

"What is it with you and making people admit their loss when you clearly know they did?"

The Archangel snagged her up by the scruff of her robe, and she yelped as she was lifted, the daggers confiscated, and settled on her big brothers hip. He ignored her for a moment, they come back to that matter in a bit, and turned his gaze to the shamed recruit.

"I have no place among my ranks for those who would fight so dishonorably as to use their rank to their advantage. I expect you to have cleaned your quarters out by sun fall and if you fail to do so I will have the others do so for you."


	168. Revenge

"You thought you could prank me?"

Akeelah giggled in anticipation as she backed away from her oncoming opponent. It was not often she built up the courage to prank _him _as he always managed to catch her and seek revenge, all in good fun though as he was not a spoil sport. She held her little hands up as though that alone would stop his advance, it didn't, but he allowed her the hope that it would.

She shrieked when he finally swooped her up, his hands wrapping around her waist, and she was thrown up into the air above. She kicked and waved her arms as she fell and he threw her up again.

Once his fledgling captive was nice and giggly, he caught her, cradling her gently in his arms. He was Heaven's most fearsome warrior and yet was also the most gentle of Archangels that any had ever met. Michael smiled adoringly down at her, walking them from the front room, down the back hall towards his own.

The little thing was still giggling when he cradled the back of her head and set her down on his bed, laying beside her, he held himself up with an arm, to meet her sparkling gaze and return the bright smile that he was offered.

"Hands up!"

He threw his own free hand into the air, and she followed in kind, throwing her head back into his pillow when he dug a finger into her little underarm, her arms flying back down to try and protect them, but he was already in, and he wiggled his finger a bit, making her nice and giggly again.

"I'm going to have to keep going unless you let my finger go."

As if to prove he was not bluffing, he wiggled his finger again, and she shrieked happily under him. Michael was the oldest brother, he's had many _many _younger siblings to entertain and bring joy to, he was well versed in his ways, and has had plenty of practice. He knew all the ways to bring even the strongest of his brothers and sisters to their knees; Jeremiah had his ribcage, Lucifer and Gabriel their wings, Raphael had his feet, even Nisroc had that one spot up under his highest left rib. He knew how to get to every place and bring them all to their knees, as was the things learned when in his place, and this was no different. And when it seemed they got a bit too serious, a but too hardened, he always took it as his time to step in.

Amusedly, he thought of what the choirs would think if they could see their great defenders the way he was able to see them. Most of the Power's he had raised himself; Nisroc, Haniel and Abraxos were his, and he knew how to drive them crazy with even the simplest of touches.

Little Akeelah had her belly.

She lifted her arm, experimentally, as if to try him, and he met her challenge with a smile and wiggled his finger in again. She shrieked in laughter and clamped down again.

"Okay, okay, I promise to stop if you let me have my finger back."

Akeelah nodded, lifting her arm again, and as promised he let go of his spot. It was just a warm up though, and he poked experimentally at her belly, basking in the steady string of giggles he gained from such an action. He lay his hand flat on her belly, smiling at the way it still shook even when he didn't so much as give a single twitch, and looked up to her with his own playful shine to his eyes.

"Lets see?" he tapped his fingers methodically on the shaking belly "You were going to put itching powder into my tunic after I bathed, was it?"

She giggled again, not daring to nod, but knowing either one would be futile. They both knew what she had intended to do.

"Does your little belly have an itch?"

Little fingers tried to curl around his "Nohoho Micha!"

"Oh, but I think it does." He dug his fingers in and smiled at the bright shriek that echoed around his room, making sure he left no place untouched, despite how much she tried to squirm away "I'll help you relieve this itch."


	169. Roots

_**Song listened to: 'Roots' by Alice Merton**_

Being outside of a flock in general was a rarity, there was a few more who came out of the war flockless; Zaveriel was passed around so many times he knew all of their little tricks, and his flock had been separated and never seen from again, little Akeelah had no flock (though officially adopted into the Archangels) her own flock having disappeared during the war and presumed either among those who were not able to return after or lost during the fall caused by the scribe (and how she managed to find her way back was a mystery she had yet to share) and had yet to be found again.

Being outside of a flock meant that you had no strings holding you back. You could be anything, an mixture, any class, and rank, and faction, _anything_.

Little Akeelah had been raised as a choir angel, but had watched the warriors train long enough to be able to mimic their movements, she had learned to be as quick and lithe as a messenger to escape capture during the war, and had taken to healing herself to the best of her ability from the 'second fall'.

Though all of these abilities could still be taught and strengthened, it still caused her to stick out among them, caused some to watch her as she went passed with whoever was escorting her or as she made her way hopping along humming under her breath.

Father had said before that He created her to be the best in all of them, and perhaps it was true, Father didn't do anything without meaning.

And so her roots were found in all of them; her friendship with Nisroc, her trickery with Zaveriel, her tending with Oren. She was truly a part of all of them.


	170. Knowing

_**Song listened to: 'Rise Up' by Andra Day.**_

As they walked down the Axis towards the Garden, he tried to ignore them, but he was not too good at it just yet and so he saw the looks sent in his direction. There had been many who had been fixed at the hand of their Father from the damage that the mindbreaker had done, and while the memories taken from them so wrongfully had been returned, the new ones gained hadn't been changed. There was many who still knew him as the Mindbreaker's charge, who saw him as someone who could only do bad, and thus they sent disgusted and distrustful looks at him as he walked along the Axis, in public in general, he saw them everywhere but in the few places he was truly at home; with Akeelah playing where ever they were playing in that moment or in the Pavilion with Nisroc and the Powers, who both saw him as more then just the Mindbreaker's charge. It was like it was the title he had, the swatch he wore, with how many people stared at him with distaste in their eyes.

He stepped closer to his friend, and as though she sensed his unease, she stepped closer to his side too. It was grounding when her little fingers curled around his own, a comfort in a sea of hurt, giving him something to hold onto when he himself started letting those thoughts mess with his head. Paul didn't have to look down to know that she was returning glares just as heatedly as they were being sent, he was glad they were friends now, her and Zaveriel and him, because he wasn't alone to deal with the ache of it all now.

They stepped from the warm stone to the soft cool grass in no time, Joshua giving them his soft warm greeting as he always did, hugging them close and giving them a fresh ripened piece of fruit once they parted from the embrace.

As he sat munching on his grapes, he turned to look at his friend, "Akeelah, why do they not like me?"

"Cause their idiots. You're awesome. And fun. And nice. They're just idiots who can't let go of something they don't know anything about." She squeezed his hand tightly, the one that was not holding one of her beloved peaches, "Just ignore them. They don't know you like we know you. Their just idiots." She went silent for a moment "And _please _don't tell Nisroc I said _'idiot' _like a billion times too, cause he said if he heard wind of it he'd wash it from my mouth again, and no one wants that."

He laughed and nodded, forgetting about the sour looks at the last comment, "Its nasty! I won't tell him!"

"You're a true friend."

It was sometime later, watching his guardian put his things away after a day of instructing, sitting perched on the edge of the Power's bed, that he asked again "Nis why don't people like me?"

The Power fell still, looking up from the small tunic he had been folding, turning from where he stood before the wardrobe on the opposing wall to meet the eyes of his young charge, the young boys tunic still half folded in his stilled hands.

"Don't like you….?" His hands lowered slightly, "Did something happen today? While you and the little terror played in the garden?"

He didn't seem to believe it when his young charge shook his head, looking down at his knees for a moment, but he didn't move from his place in front of the wardrobe, and allowed him the time he needed to gather his thoughts.

"I act like I don't see them, Nis." When young Paul looked back up at him his eyes were sad, it caused his heart to ache with just how young he could look in a mere look, as though he forced himself to act older then he was to appease everyone else and he was the only one close enough to see it behind closed doors. Well, him, and the Baby Power of course. "I act like I don't, but I do, I always do and I never say anything because I don't want anyone to get into trouble, but it hurts, it hurts a lot." His eyes were shimmering with unshed tears, and the Power quickly set the tunic aside to cross over to his side, holding his hands out in a sign that he was going to pick him up. Paul was not a fledgling, hadn't been for a few eons, but he was still as small as one, perhaps a eon or two out of fledglinghood, and given the experiences he had as one Nisroc had sworn that when he was able he would treat him as the youngling he truly was. Just a young boy trying to find someone to care, and he swore to himself, he swore he would be that person. "_Why don't they like me?"_

So, he pulled him up from the edge of his bed, fingers hooking under his arms, and pulled him up to hold him closer. The comfort of his solid presence there to stay the sadness any further.

Paul clutched at him, arms curling around his neck, fingers clutching at the back of his bark amber tunic. He guided the little feet around his waist, wrapping the same arm under his bottom, as he curled the left around his back, cradling the back of his head with his left hand.

"The looks?"

"They glare at me, Nis. The look at me like I'm a _monster_. Like I'm a _mindbreaker_! But I'm not! _I'm not, I swear!_ Why do they hate me? Why! I _didn't _even do _anything."_

"My little warrior." Nisroc sat on the edge of his own bed, pulling the boy away slight, one little leg draping over either side, and he rubbed a tear away with his thumb as he brushed his curls back "They do not _know _you. And they are fools for not liking someone they do not _know."_

He cupped his right cheek with the same hand, brushing his thumb over the warm slick skin tenderly "And it is their loss. For _I _know you, _Haniel _knows you, _Titus, Abraxos, Puriel, __**Michael **_knows you. Your two trouble making friends know you." He ducked down to meet the boys gaze when he lost it "You are _kind_, and have so much _heart_ to give to everyone you meet, you are the _farthest _thing from being a _monster_." And he lifted the young ones head with a knuckle curled under his chin when he looked down "And you are _my _little warrior. And you always will be. You may have lived with that mindbreaker, but you will never _become _one, _never_."

Nisroc finally met his gaze and smiled to him, "If they took the time to know you as I know you; the way your eyes _brighten_ when you discover something new, the way your laughter _warms the heart _when one pays that belly of yours some attention, " wiggled a few fingers into the surface just to prove his point, smiling again when the boy giggled brightly and turned away, "If they took the time to _know _you they would see what they are _missing _out on."


	171. Restless

_**Song listened to: 'Here's to Us' by Halestorm**_

_**AN: Though Paul is still the only charge Nisroc has, I'm thinking of adding another, let me know what you think? Can you guess who's the possible candidate here?**_

After the encounter with the Captain, they three of them tried to remain on their best behavior, not wanting to test him on his promises to follow through with the threats he made. They had asked Erathaol the next morning about his encounter with the belt and he had been quick in encouraging them against ever meeting it, Nisroc was an angel of his word, and when his word was challenged, he was not known for going easy on the affronter. He had told them of how he had been forced to bare his back end, bend over the Power's desk, and the sting of every wallop. He himself was as tough as they come, having been raised by a newly declared fallen that would go unnamed, but he admitted in a hushed tone that by the end even he had been a mess laying over the Captain's desk. They swore from what they learned to be as good as good could be, Nisroc was a forgiving angel, he knew that young angels would make mistakes along the way and didn't discourage from it, as mistakes is what the base of learning was made from.

But he did discourage rule breaking and disrespect.

He discouraged it with a firm hand, that almost all the cadets met at one point during their time under his guidance, it was a different approach then some of the others took, but he was the one most everyone in the younger classes hoped to catch the eye of. He treated them all as though they were his personal charge, not a unit, but on an individual basis, as all the Powers did. Though only one of them was truly his official charge, he took careful precaution when it came to training his own cadets, even if it meant taking them to task for wrongdoings.

Sashiel and Thanos had agreed nearly immediately that they would never steal another thing that was not there's, wouldn't even think on it, not wanting to be on the end of the Power's belt. Donavon was quick in agreement, despite it being against what his previous guardian had taught him, it was he after all whole stole the weapons from right under the Powers noses from the armory. It was eat or be eaten, if there was something you needed then you took it, no questions asked. That's how he was raised. It wasn't stealing it was pickings that were to be picked from if they needed that particular item.

But still, refrained, as he too didn't want to live through the pain that their friend, Erathaol, had lived through.

And then the fledgling had come to them. It was just as sun was setting, they'd been dismissed from training early due to a storm rolling in, and had returned to their barrack to clean themselves up from vigorous exercise and to do what the wanted with the rest of their free time given through the night. She was not a rarity among them, having made friends with quite a few of the cadets in the barrack, but it was a rarity to have her seeking them out as they had not parted on the best of terms.

But there she sat on Sasha's bed, kicking her legs, waiting for them to return after washing up.

"What do you want?"

Donavon knew immediately by the appearance of her features that she was there because she wanted something from them, wanted them to do something for her, and she knew enough of their passed deeds that had slipped under the Captain's radar to force them to move at her hand. Sashael and Thanos exchanged looks behind him, he felt their nervousness rolling like waves in the sea, but he stood firm.

"I want you to get something for me."

She may appear to be innocent, but looks were deceiving, and the three of them learned that fact quickly.

"You want us to _steal _for you?" Thanos sounded nervous, as though the Captain would appear in the door suddenly and enact his promised comeuppance at the mere thought of it "You heard what he said! He'd wallop us good! I don't want that!" Sasha nodded in agreement to his statement of denial and neither liked it when she smiled at them, sweet, but full of venom. She knew how to play her game, she'd had eons of practice, and she often played to win.

"If you don't get it for me, then, _I'll_ tell him about what you all did in the Heart Hall."

They fell pale, minds reeling in an attempt to learn of how she would have gained knowledge of that and she had them nodding quickly in agreement to do as she wanted them to.

The four of them had made it as far as the edge of the gate, their pilfered object in hand, when they'd been caught by one of the guards stationed there. His hand curled around the offending object, a spear encrusted with runes graced by an Archangel, and gave them all a heated glare as he turned the four of them back around.

The Captain had been reading through some documents and various pages when he was interrupted by the knock on his office door, setting the parchments aside, he folded his hands and called for them to enter at their own will. It caught him by surprise, his eyes widening in accordance, when the sentry stepped in, behind the four of them, and he was quick in standing when he was handed a spear infused with the grace of an Archangel.

"Sir, I caught the four of them attempting to sneak through the gates with this in their possession." He nodded towards the four silent young ones "I trust they were not meant to have such a weapon?"

"They were not." The Power's tone was harsh, clearly upset at their blatant disregard to his leniency, and they felt the heat of his gaze on the tops of their heads "I thank you for bringing them to me."

The Sentry saluted him, turning to exit the office silently, and closed the door behind him at the word of the Captain.

Nisroc stood before them, looking at the weapon they had managed to take from right under their noses, and his anger boiled deep. He had given them a chance, given them leniency the last time, and this was the thanks he was getting in return.

"Well?" they knew he was addressing them, and despite their tough appearance they attempted to maintain, the _four _of them flinched at the tone he spoke with "Have any of you something to say for yourselves?"

When silence was his only answer, he nodded once, sternly, and stepped behind his desk to lean the spear against the wall behind it.

"I gave you warning, did I not?" still none made to answer him, and he snapped, "_Answer_."

All three boys nodded quickly, flinching slightly at the anger that burned in the passive Power's eyes, even the defiant little fledging looked worried for her well being at the anger that shone in his features. Nisroc was not one anyone crossed and got away with, he was not known for his mercy when his warnings were not heeded, and Erathaol had _warned _them on the fact. Sashael and Thanos were not ashamed to admit that they may have whimpered softly when they watched their Captain cross his arms.

"Which one of you was the instigator, this time?"

Nisroc seemed surprised when they turned to point at the nervous fledgling, little Akeelah looked up at him quickly from the safety of the curtain of curls hanging in her eyes, and quickly looked back down when their eyes met. The Power stepped out from behind his desk, rested a hand on the top of those wild curls, and tilted her head upwards "Go stand in that corner until I call for you." He pointed towards the left corner behind his desk, and knowing when one crossed the line, she didn't put up a fight on the order and ran forward to do as she was told.

He crossed to stand before the three boys, looking down at their bowed heads with anger burning in his eyes, and he quickly cooled it, he would never administer correction when heated by anger. There was a difference between correcting and senseless beating, and he would never allow himself to merge between those two lines, and when he spoke next his tone was not so harsh with rage, though still hard as one's tone needed to be in these moments.

"Look at me."

The looked up at him as one unit, perfectly in sync, just as they spared together. He pointed first at their proclaimed leader of their three men unit, and Donavon felt his stomach drop, when the finger then pointed to the desk over the Power's shoulder.

"Bare yourself, and over the edge," when the boy didn't move, he bent, their eyes meeting on the same footing, _"__Now_." And Donavon scurried forward to do as he was told, dread building in him as he shakily undid the belt that cinched his trousers to his hips and lowered them, followed by the under garment, and bent over the desk with a small nearly unperceivable whine, old enough to take it but still young enough to dread it.

The Power turned to the other two in the next moment, pointing to the left side of his desk, "Over there, stand, if you try and leave your place you will feel the sting more than the allotted total." They nodded, faces paling, and ran forward to stand where they were told to. Nisroc watched them all for a moment, sighing deeply through his nose, and reached up for his own belt cinching his trousers to his waist. Donavon whimpered softly when he heard the Power step up behind him, a hand place itself on his back, and the cool leather of the belt touch his bare backside for a moment before it was pulled back.

It was just as Erathaol had described it being; sharp and painful, enough to make even the toughest of younglings yell out in pain. Though it was clear that Nisroc held much of his strength back, as he was not to cross the line between discipline and beating, he still applied enough force to get his displeasure across.

Seven wallops in total.

And it only took seven to break the younglings resolve, the Power had been guiding young ones for quite some time, and thus he knew how to make his points learned with a firmer hand when the need arose for it. Donavon was crying by the time they finished, his chest heaving at the belt disappeared and the hand returned, rubbing at his back as he was helped back up straight. He sobbed as he bent to pull his trousers up, fingers shaking enough that it made it hard to notch his own belt in place, resisting the urge to leave it all and rub miserably at his blistering bottom.

Large warm fingers took over for him, helping him notch the belt in place, and then they lifted his face up. Large warm thumbs rubbed the tears away silently, and he was guided around with a gentle hand on the back of his head, and he knew without say that he was to replace one of his friends at their posts.

Sashael looked terrified when his friend stopped before him, shaking his head quickly, tears already building in his eyes despite there being no sting. He refused to move, even at the Power's soft beckoning, tears of terror streaming down his face as he shook his head frantically. The Power sighed again, setting the belt on the desk, and gently guided the chastised young angel to stand on the other side as he knelt before the petrified youngling. He caressed both of his cheeks tenderly, wiping tears that flooded his face away with his thumbs, "Calm now, lest you make yourself sick." Nisroc was familiar with the fear the youngling held, it was the same fear that his own had upon the first time he required firmer correction, as rare as it was, and it broke his heart to know that any angel could do such things to one given to them to care for. "Who was your guardian, young one?"

Sashael sucked in a shaky breath and rubbed at his own eyes despite the large warm hands cupping either side of his face, "T-Thaddeus. P-Please d-don't! P-P-Please! I p-promise it w-won't happen a-again!" the thumbs stroked over his cheeks again and he was softly instructed "Take a deep breath for me." He did so with a shaky nod, taking a gulp of air and holding it, until he was told to let it out again "What he did was wrong. I know of him, what he did was not correcting a wrong, and I am sorry that he did. If I could take the pain away I would, that fear that rolls deep in your belly, but I am unable to, despite how much I desire it." He pressed his hands a bit more against both cheeks and reached to take his little hand into his own, Sashael still shook but allowed such an action "Come." He was pulled forward, as the Power stood, and walked back around the large desk, the Captain sat in his seat and beckoned him forward again. Sasha took another deep shaky breath and inched forward bit by bit, and the Power was patient in waiting "Trousers down, come, little one." He whined softly as he slowly did as he was told, letting the warm hands pull him closer one he had, and he was pulled to stand before his Captain, thumbs rubbed the tears away again "I am punishing you for a wrongdoing, nothing more, there will be seven in total"

He shook like a leaf as he was guided over the Power's knee, the belt was left where it lay on the other side of the desk, as a hand pressed to his bared bottom and another reached down for him to grasp onto. The first of seven total smacks had him jumping, it was hard, and it hurt, but not like it had with Thaddeus. The warden had never let him hold his hand either, never squeezed his fingers in comfort, he never counted them out over his head for him to hear. On the seventh smack he was sobbing again, his face buried in the hand that he clutched to for dear life, perhaps more so for the whole ordeal then the actual sting. And then he was righted with a gentleness he had not gotten when punished before, and pulled into a warm strong chest, where he pressed his face in deep and sobbed his fears and pain away.

"You did great, little one." The voice was warm as it reverberated in the chest he pressed himself to, a hand stroking down the back of his head gently, "Calm down now. It is done. No more."

He looked up with bright frightened eyes, if a bit confused too, and it broke the Captain's heart just that much more, "N-N-No more?"

"None. You have served for your wrongdoing. No more." Those thumbs rubbed his tears away again, a finger brushing over his nose, and he was guided back around to return to his spot and send the last of their trio over.

Thanos stumbled on his way, taking comfort in the steadying hand that caught him, helping him back to his feet again "You know what needs done, come now." He nodded shakily and undid his own belt in the same fashion that Donavon had, bending over the desk as the Power took up his belt, and took a deep breath when the cool leather touched his bare bottom and pulled back.

Seven was the perfect number. It was enough to get the point across without over doing it. There was no point in being cruel when teaching a lesson, and Nisroc was not a cruel angel, not on the battlefield nor off. He was an angel of his word, and though it seemed unfair that the two of them would receive an end with his belt while the other merely met his hand overturned on his knee, it would be more harmful then teaching to do anything more on a young one who had experienced what Sasha had.

He left them stand there, tears still brightening their eyes, and quietly crossed to the corner the fledgling had remained as silently as she could. Her eyes were drowned in tears when he guided her around, kneeling to look into her eyes on her level, her little hands going back to shield her backside.

"Please Nis? Please?"

The Power shook his head, turning her slightly, and delivered four well aimed swats, not as harsh as they had been to the cadets, but still a bit firm. She hiccupped and reached for him, still more so upset at being in the corner for so long then the actual swatting, and he lifted her into his arms at her request.

When he retuned to the other three, Sasha was quick in burying himself in his right side, Thanos in his left, and Donavon in his middle. Nisroc sighed again, brushing over the three heads under him with his free hand, tilting little heads up to wipe away the tears that remained, and brushed a finger fondly over the three little noses.

"It has been quite an eventful evening." He adjusted his hold on the fledgling sitting perched on his hip, "Would you all like to retire to my room with me?" they nodded, and he ushered them out of his office, closing the door behind him. He was tough when the need arose for it but let it not be said that he did not care deeply for his young ones, Erathaol had told them of what happened after too. Of returning to his rooms with him. Or curling up under the thick warm blankets that smelled like him. It was almost like having a guardian again, a guardian that cared, as many young ones these days came from situations to be desired. And that was why most of them hoped to be spotted by the Captain, he was serious when it came to his few rules, and could be hardhanded when he needed to, but he was always just and made sure they were taken care of after.


	172. Game

Sam Winchester watched from where he stood as the lithe messenger made his way quickly through the horde of Vampires, he was a physical example that looks were often more times then not, deceiving. The large Power, that made sense, he had been fighting in wars since before the dawn of man, but a _messenger_ was not what he expected. Gabriel wasn't even worried about the short sly angel, having left his side as soon as they appeared, with nothing but his own agility and a notched bow.

He was stuck in a place of awe as the short angel called out to the towering Power, and he ducked quickly, swinging his sword around as he kneeled, and the messenger flipped up to perch on his shoulders. Drew himself up, and shot an arrow down into the Vampires head that tried to get in from the front when his friend was kneeling. His feet curled around his shoulder blades, falling back fluidly to stick an approaching vampire from behind.

The Hunter, distracted as he was, released a surprised yell when a Vampire collapsed beside him with an arrow lodged in its forehead. Gabriel cheered his guy on, hooting proudly from where he stood back to back with the older archangel.

Watching them both, Sam could see where the little messenger had gotten his fighting style, he moved in the same rhythm that _both _Archangels did. As the last Vampire fell, the messenger hopped down from the Power's shoulders, beaming much too brightly for someone who had just driven thirty arrows into thirty unmissed skulls.

"47!"

The Power smiled "52."

"Damn it!"


	173. Shallow

He knew there was something wrong the moment he stepped into his Aerie and silence rang loudly against his ears, he looked to the other messengers in question and they shook their heads, shying away from his inquisitive gaze and turned to one another instead.

"What happened?"

None stepped forward to answer though, they all whispered and clung to each other, looking in the direction of his office as though to answer his inquiry with a silent gesture. The Messenger gave them all odd looks and moved forward, heading in the direction of his office, and came to a stand still at the sound that managed to echo to his ear. The sound of something crashing, something shattering, and he quickened his pace.

Throwing the door to his office open, Gabriel saw the throwing of the vase before he saw anything else, ducking quickly as it whooshed passed his head and shattered on the stone wall behind him.

The scream that followed was so gut wrenching, so heart broken, that he couldn't do much more then just stare for the longest of moments. Seeing his bright hearted second bent over on himself sobbing was not something he would have come to expect to find, and yet here he was.

"Hey, hey, hey. " he stepped into his office, grabbing at the arm that was raised to throw another object, pulling it free from his fingers, "_Hey. _What's wrong? What happened? Is everyone okay?"

Zaveriel struggled against his hold, tugging uselessly at his arms, tears splashing down from his eyes before the struggle left him and he slumped forward. The Messenger seemed awed at the turn of events, but still he wrapped him in his arms, tightening his hold when he felt the body pressed against his shake with a sob.

"He gets worried."

One had broken the silence, a brave soul stepping forward in an ocean of whispers, and golden eyes turned to look at the fearless young woman, who looked so _so _sad.

"Worried?"

"That you won't come back."

He stared at her, at them all, and then to the one curled in his arms. His poor little second, the one that his brother had been so fond of, the one who had once been so happy to be accepted in the Messengers ranks, had barely graduated from his trainings, barely been his second for an eon, before he'd up and left him on his own with no warning and a flock to run.

Gabriel took in the damage done to his office, curling tighter around the quivering angel in his arms, and made a vow to them all.

"I'm here and I'm not going anywhere. Never again."

"But those are just words."

Another brave soul stepped forward and he turned to look at their defiant eyes. The Messenger nodded in agreement.

"If I am to abandon you all again, then, let it be, Father take the very star that stands in my core."


	174. Revolting

"But, why can't I come with you?"

Michael heaved another sigh, as he prepared himself to explain for the fifth time just as to why the fledgling could not join them, kneeling to pry her fingers off from around his wrist, ignoring his brothers when they laughed from behind his back, the fledgling looked up at him with wide pleading eyes.

"I've told you, little one, many, _many _times why."

Leaving her on her own with the caretakers in the guardian surrounded by other fledglings was not their first choice; there had been quite a few who had said they'd watch over her while they were away, but they had declined. It was good for her to be around those her own age every now and then and they had wanted the others to have the day of rest to themselves. Their fledgling could survive one day with the other fledglings.

He leaned forward to press a kiss to her temple "Be good." And left her standing there, surely with her little arms crossed, and couldn't shake the feeling of dread that filled him as they left her standing there behind them.

It shouldn't have honestly come a surprise to them when the four of them had returned to collect their charge from the caregivers watching over the young fledglings in the garden, to find the caregivers tied around a tree, and the fledglings running around amok.

Michael and Raphael knelt to untie them from their capture, Gabriel snorted as he crossed to kneel in front of their _all too innocent _fledgling sitting precariously on a rock munching on a peach.

"What did you do?"

She stopped chewing for a moment, looking up at him with wide round eyes, swallowing her mouth full of peach.

"Eat a peach, Gabe."

The Messenger snorted again, nodding towards the caregivers as they were aided to their feet, and then towards the wild fledglings being subdued by the cooling grace of the Morningstar, him humming them into silence until they curled up on the soft grass to nap.

"I can see that. Why were they tied up?"

"They said I couldn't have any peaches."

"So, you led a revolt against them?"

Their fledgling nodded, taking another bite, "Sure." He tilted his head as he watched the two caregivers wave in their direction "How did you manage to do it so efficiently?" his answer came in the form of his second stepping out from behind a tree taking a large bite out of a peach. Their eyes met, the Messenger slowly coming to stand back up, as they stared each other down. The young messenger turned and _bolted_, his master leaping over the stump their common friend sat on and chased after him, leaving the others in his wake shaking their heads in exasperation.

Akeelah shrugged, a tad smugly, and took another bite of her peach. At that moment, Joshua turned the corner, saw what had transpired, and wrapped his arms around his midsection as he bent over laughing.


	175. Waver

He knew after the first meeting that he wanted to have another, but was unsure as to how he should approach it, he was sorted after all and those who were sorted didn't get to have such things. It was foolish of him to even think about it, and mentally he smacked himself, it was a feeling he was used to, diving back into his training with as much vigor as he could muster, as if to use the ache from such hard days to distract himself from such desires.

But then he was the one who had been so nice to him. He'd been gentle, he'd explained, he didn't keep hitting and hitting and hitting. When he said a number he meant a number and never went over the number he meant. He'd allowed him to curl up with him after, wiping away the tears with soft touches, let him wrap himself in the blanket that smelled like he did and sleep in his bed until morning.

And just when he thought he'd built up enough courage to go up and ask to talk to him, he would push himself out of it, telling himself that such thoughts were for the weak and he'd jump right back in again.

So, perhaps against his better judgement, he did the next best thing he could think of as to not appear needy for anything, waiting for the day that the Powers were not there to guide them in their training, under the watch of an elder warrior, he turned and punched a young trainee in the face. It held enough force to send the younger one reeling backwards, pushing him up off his feet, cracking the jaw bone completely in two. He'd been taught to punch at a young age, it was better to fight off the oncoming attack then just sit there and allow it to happen, even if fighting back got him into even more trouble in the end, he still fight back as much as he could. Sometimes he could gain himself a few hours of hiding before meeting his inevitable punishment, and by then he'd built himself up to it, prepared himself for the lashing before it even happened.

One of the warriors supervising them snatched him up before he could throw another, not that he had planned more then one, shouting an order to another as one ran forward to check on the sobbing youngster laying sprawled in the dirt in front of him.

"What were you thinking!"

He's dragged away by his arm, any attack on a trainee is brought straight to the one in command, and thus they trudged along, the elder warrior dragging the youngling forward in a fast paced motion, and the young boy struggling to keep up behind him. Others turned to watch as they marched along, raising eyebrows and whispering to their partners as they passed, heading for a familiar wooden door in a familiar hall.

The Power jumped in surprise as his office door was thrown open, dropping the stack of papers he had been sorting through in his shock, "Yes Cammael?"

"Sir, there's been an incident on the training field," the Power raised an eyebrow in surprise, "What happened? We were only a way for a single day." The elder warrior pulled the youngling up to stand before him, and the young boy fiddled with his fingers, red blood dripping from his bruised knuckles, "This one decided to punch another in the face, broke his cheek bone solidly, split the skin, he's going to be out of commission for a while." He nodded, leaning forward to cross his arms over his desk, looking down to meet the eyes of the young angel not daring to meet his gaze, and sighed deeply "Did he now?" the Power nodded at the Warrior Elder "Thank you for bringing this to me, I will take it from here, you may return to your students." Cammael nodded, saluting, and turned to leave the young angel to his fate. Sashael looked down to his feet, his nerves nearly making him shake, but the voice that called out to him wasn't a hard one nor a mean one, "Come on now, don't be shy, I believe after giving that bottom of yours a few good smacks, we're passed the formalities now." He looked up to meet the others gaze, the eyes that looked back at him were kind, they didn't glare, and they were warm instead of cold and he reached out for him "Join me, young Sasha?"

He nodded quickly, scurrying forward, hands twitching towards the belt curled around his waist. But a large hand stopped him, and he looked up to see the elder shake his head, hooking a few fingers around his middle to lift him up and sit on the edge of his desk.

"I think we'll hold off on that."

He looked down to his feet, twiddling his fingers shyly, and the Power was patient though and leaned back in his chair.

"Shall we start with why you decided to punch our young friend?"

"I wanted….I just wanted…." He looked up and once he met those soft eyes he couldn't look away "I wanted…I wanted to see you again"

The Power raised an eyebrow, "You hardly had to harm someone to come and see me." He pat his legs fondly and leaned forward, arms sliding up on his either side. "You don't have to get into trouble to get my attention."

Sashael nodded, looking down again, feeling the shame heat up his cheeks. This always happened, he was too weak, why would someone like a Power want him around. He was nothing, the only good there was for him, was learning how to be strong because others only loved you when you were strong.

"Tell me about yourself." Fingers squeezed at his outer thighs and he jumped at the sensation, "What do you like to do in your free time from training?" the young boy shrugged nervously, and his thighs were squeezed again, bringing a shy smile to his face, "I, myself, like to spend it in the Garden with my friends. Or spend the day with my young charge."

"I…I like to draw…..and play in the Garden….and sometimes I hum and walk….."

"Do you now? Perhaps some time you will have so show me these masterpieces." He smiled when the young boy smiled again, it was a shy little thing, bright, but quiet, "Tell me, how old are you?"

Sasha looked up to meet his eyes again, feeling a sense of comfort at the fingers that sit curled around his legs, and by the kindness that shone in the eyes he looked into.

"I'm….I just turned 13,000 sir."

"Why do we allow you to chose your flock so s_o _young?" that seemed to fluster the mighty Power and Sashael immediately looked back down again, "You are barely out of fledglinghood. Before the war…"

_'__Before the war'_ was the key in that statement, before the patch of hard-times, one wasn't given the ability to chose one's flock until they reached at least twenty millennium, but during such harsh times they had lived through they had done away with that rule and allowed ones barely out of their own fledglinghood to step forward, and given some of the shadows most of them who did lived through it was no surprise that so many stepped forward.

"Sir, I stepped forward because it was better, better then not."

"None of that now, as I said before, call me Nis. All my friends do."

Sasha smiled, "we're friends?"

"Of course." He squeezed his thighs one more time, and this time a small minute giggle slipped through his lips, and the mighty Power smiled at the sound "I am quite fond of you. We shall meet again, that I assure you, and you don't have to get yourself into trouble, if you want to see me all you must do is come." He was helped down from the desk, and the Power stood to walk him to the door, a hand settled upon his head, tilting it back, "I can see it in your eyes." He felt his face heat up again when he was made to look up at the Power, "What you desire. It is not in my power to grant such a thing." Nisroc knelt before him, straightening his tunic and securing the belt around his waist. "But rest assured I will see what I c_an _do." Sasha gave him a rare smile, surging forward to hug him tightly, and the Power was warm and surprisingly soft. "But it is just a title. You are always welcome to seek me out if you want me." He pulled back and Nisroc smiled at him, a hand caressing his cheek "And this time without hurting another, please?"

"Okay, Nis."

…

"What would you think of me taking another charge?"

Paul sat up from where he lay on his guardians chest, turning to look at him with confusion, and Nisroc sat up to follow in his stead

"Why would you want to do that?"

The tone from the youngling surprised him, and he raised an eyebrow at it, leaning forward on his knees as the young one scooted forward to sit between his legs.

"To give them the same home that I gave to you."

"But I don't want you to." It was unusual for the boy to whine, but thus it came with age, and he was still so young, "Because then you'll have to spend all your time with them, and you'll never have time for me anymore and then you'll forget me and I'll be all alone and—"

A hand curled over his mouth, "Slow down, little warrior." There was humor humming deep in his tone and Paul huffed at it "You would have a brother, not a replacement, I'd still have just as much time for you as I do now."

"But you don't _know _that!"

He smiled, curing his fingers around his midsection, and fell backwards again and took the boy with him. Paul laughed despite himself, his little fingers curling into the Power's wrists, laughter simmering to giggles as he stared down into the happy eyes of his guardian.

"If that shoulder e_ver _happen, which it won't, then you and Haniel can incite that game I know you've been planning behind my back."

He shrieked softly when those fingers dug in slightly, "I would never leave you on your own.", and squirmed when they did again, "For, who else would make you laugh as much as I do?"

Paul seemed to consider it, smiling brightly when his guardian leaned forward to press a peck to his nose playfully "You promise?"

"With all my heart." He's laid upon the chest again "Would you let me help another just like I helped you?"

…

"You wish to take another?"

Father had been amused when he'd come to him with the inquiry, and he figured amusement was better then anything else, and most certainly better out right denying him the inquiry.

"I do."

Nisroc stood before Him, his arms crossed over his chest loosely, watching his Father ponder the request with amusement. He played a big game, but He was just as much of a softy for the young ones as he was, the Power had no doubt as to what the outcome of his request would be.

"How old is the boy?"

"13 millennium."

He looked down to him in concern, "How did one so young be allowed to choose his flock?" he nodded in agreement to the inquiry of awe "He's barely a youngling. Basically, still a fledgling, he is."

"That's what I said." Nisroc stepped forward, "He's younger then my Paul."

"No more will they be allowed to chose themselves a flock so young." He nodded to His Archangels "I want them all to be found guardians. And no more of this foul treatment. I want them found suitable guardians."

He turned to look at the Power, and Nisroc stood at a attention under His gaze, "You wish to take little Sashael, then I grant it, fix what his previous guardian has so wrongfully broken." The Power smiled, bright and warm, nodding in time to the soft command, "I will, Father, thank you.

…

Cammael saluted when the Captain came to stand before his class, instructing the others to do so as well, teaching a sign of respect for the chain of command was instilled even at the lowest of levels. Nisroc dismissed him and sought one particular small one out, smiling when he spotted him, and waved a hand in his direction as he turned to look to the teacher.

"Do you mind if I borrow young Sashael for a few moments?"

He nodded and motioned the young angel forward, he shook as he stepped out from his place sparing with Thanos, walking among his silent classmates until he met at the Power's side. Nisroc thanked the teacher and guided the young angel towards the benches with a gentle hand curled around the base of his neck.

Sasha sat nervously on the bench, "I didn't punch anyone again!" he chuckled and knelt, "I know you didn't. You're alright. I had some news." The poor little thing looked terrified, preparing for the rejection he was sure to come next "You'll come back with me after today's lessons."

"Am I in trouble?"

"No, but my charges usually stay with me in my room."

It took a moment for it to comprehend for the young angel, and he watched it finally enlighten him in slow succession, smiling at the way his eyes slowly lit up.

"Really?" Sasha looked up to him in wonder, "You'd want me?" And the Power nodded "I was not lying when I said I was quite fond of you." He squeezed his thighs again and grinned playfully when he jumped under his touch, "And you best prepare yourself. We are most certainly going to explore that a it more in depth. "

The little one blushed crimson and jumped forward to hug him again. The Power hugged him back, ignoring the gazes burning against his back with amusement, and ushered him in the direction of his class in the next moment. Nisroc watched him go for a moment, falling in step with his commander, and from beside him the archangel snorted.

"Those two boys have me Captain wrapped around their fingers."

"And that little fledgling that loves to hang around with them has my commander wrapped around hers."


	176. Anger

He rushed the seraph with a quickness only messengers could be known for, twin daggers taking capture of his neck; one from behind and one under the chin, eyes their own weapon from how sharp his glare was.

"You wouldn't dare. Not with us having Father's favor."

The young man growled dangerously, digging his blade in deeper despite the rumble of thunder that echoed around them in the clearing. His friends were help back at sword point, two of the others keeping them in place, and the messenger grinned at the challenge.

"How much do you wanna bet He favors me more then you?" the messenger looked spitefully at him "Don't think He doesn't know what you tried to do to His youngest."

Castiel reached for his own blade, and the edge of the dagger dug sharply into the skin of his neck, causing him to hiss at the pain from it. Zaveriel's biggest strategy was fooling everyone around him, he had them all fooled with his carefree attitude, his joking manner, and under it all he was just as deadly as the Captain Power. You didn't know he had struck you until he was watching you fall to your knees.

"I heard what you did to my friend."

He snarled lowly, digging his blade in deep enough to draw blood from the edge, and maneuvered them in such a way that the seraph was forced to his knees, despite his attempts in avoidance. Still though, he fell down, kneeling before the enraged messenger.

"That traitor caused this all."

"You know nothing, you silly little foot soldier, nothing of what you speak."

"He had blood on his hands."

Thunder rumbled again, but Zaveriel dug his blade in deeper, "I'm about to have more on mine." The ground rumbled under them, through slightly off balance, but he recovered too quick for the other to gain any semblance of upper hand. "And what of _yours_? Their _stained _red with the blood of our family. Of innocents. Gadreel makes mistakes, but he owns up to them, unlike you. You self-righteous bastard."

"Zaverial, release him."

He ignored the voice, but Castiel looked over his shoulder at it, and his eyes widened in surprise. The messenger seemed surprised when another hand joined his, large fingers, a ring curled around the ring finger and thumb, curling around his and pulling the dagger back swiftly without so much as nicking the seraphs wounded neck.

"When I tell you to do something, you best do it, with haste." He went ignored for a moment as his capturer turned their attention to the side "Kushiel, Kariel, release them at once."

It took him a moment to place the voice, and when he did, he whined loudly, "_Daaaaad!"_

"Don't you _'__Dad' _Me, young one." The young messenger whined when large fingers curled around his ear, "What have I _told _you about attacking others unprovoked?"

"Please, it was hardly unprovoked."

Those fingers tugged at his ear "What was that?"

"I said I'm sorry Daddy."

It sounded as though He was trying to hold back a chuckle "That's what I thought I heard you say."

"Are you kidding me!" Dean Winchester threw his hands in the air "He almost killed us! Punish him! Do something!"

He favored them, He truly did, but He was not one to be told how to raise His children.

"He has a kind heart, though sometimes it be clouded by anger," He shot a pointed glance at His young son "But he lets it guide him. I would never have allowed him to act on it. And worry you not, he will be punished for this." Zaveriel gulped wincing at the tugging on his ear when he turned to look at his Father "Oh, indeed he will be."


	177. Breeze

_"__ZAVERIEL!" _

Akeelah giggled softly when he friend shot to his feet, eyes falling wide in alarm, and turned to kiss her on the cheek before bolting in the other direction. Some moments later, filled with giggling and the sound of her friend running away, the caller revealed themselves. Her hand covered her mouth as she laughed outright, looking up to her Master's bright pink hair, it matched his wings with the sparkle, and he spared her a look as he came to stand next to her bench.

"Which way did he go?"

She didn't move a muscle and he pointed a threatening finger at his little charge.

"I'm not in a merciful mood and if you want the full focus of my wrath on that little belly of yours, you'll at least point me in the right direction."

Little arms curled around her belly protectively, barely letting a hand out as she pointed in the direction he had run in, the elder kneeled to kiss her temple and poke her belly, before taking off in the same direction her friend disappeared in.

Zaveriel laughed as he ran, the sound of boots hitting the stone behind him only making him laugh harder and run faster, zigging and zagging between passersby. Others seemed annoyed at his hasty cutting them off, while others spotted his pursuer and cheered him on, the excitement was so thick one could nearly touch it.

He just stepped up to the first step of the Aerie when arms caught him around the waist, lifting him completely from his feet, and soon enough he was dangling over his pursuers shoulder. The young messenger saw others turn to look at him in surprise as they passed, heading in the familiar direction of the Messengers office, and they waited patiently after knocking for their entrance to be granted.

Gabriel was laughing.

Whether it be at his young proteges predicament or his brothers new shade of hair, neither knew, but both suspected it was a bit of both, and he heard him stand from his desk and gather his satchel.

"Well Luci, I think blonde suits you better but you live your best life, let him live please as I still have need of him."

He cleared his desk off and stepped around as his older brother stepped passed him and bent to swing the young messenger over to lay on the cleared surface.

"Oh, I'll let him live.", the young messenger looked between the two amused archangels with wide tense eyes, "I want to hear him _beg _me to let him free."

Gabriel smirked, winking at the young messenger when he turned a pleading gaze on him, smiling as he turned to leave them to their fun. Well. To his older brothers fun. He chuckled to himself as he walked down the hall, shaking his head as he looked down to adjust the strap on his satchel, and laughed when a bright scream rolled down the hall.


	178. Leaving

She laughed freely as they twirled around, her arms open wide, her head thrown back as she was swallowed by the euphoria of it all. They slowed to a stop, until they swayed around like the twirls of the breeze, and she leaned forward, lifting herself up with her little fingers curled over his shoulders.

"When do you leave?"

"Come morning."

She stuck her little lip out, leaning forward, curling her arms around his neck instead. He chuckled softly and pressed a kiss up under her ear.

"For how long?"

"For only a week."

"But that's too long, Micha!"

The oldest archangel smiled at her soft whine and swayed them around, rocking his arms slightly, dancing them gentle beneath the stars of their garden.

"Will you miss me?"

"Always, baby girl, always." He rocked her until she seemed to calm down, leaning lazily against him, "Do you want me to tell you a story, before I go?"

Akeelah nodded against his cheek, "Yes please."

Michael nodded, rocking her still, as he lowered them both to the soft warm grass, the garden illuminated by the bright full moon, covered in a blanket of stars. She settled comfortably on his chest and he rubbed a hand over her back soothingly.

"What story do you want to hear, my heart?"

Her eyes looked up at him, twinkling like the stars above, "The one about the sun and the moon."

"Your wish is my command" he kissed her head lightly and curled an arm up behind his head "Make yourself comfortable, little one."

She cuddled down and hugged his arm to her chest, waiting silently and patiently for her story, and he curled her closer.

"One day, the Sun and the Moon had a quarrel as to who was the stronger of the two."

He smiled down at her, her attention unwavering as she hung onto every word in a silent enjoyment, and he kissed her nose lightly.

"The two argued with each other for ages and finally the Sun declared that the Moon could not shine if the Sun's light did not fall on it and illuminate it."

She yawned largely and cuddled back down.

"To prove his might and utility, the Moon proudly replied, 'You burn the earth with your heat and give light, but when I shine at night women come outdoors to spin in the moonlight.'"

The archangel scratched lightly at the fledglings head in the way he knew she liked.

"On hearing this, the Sun became so angry that he picked up some mud and flung it at the Moon's face."

She giggled sleepily against his chest, "Like I did to Luci?"

"Just like you did to Luci, little heart." She cuddled back down again, and he resumed his story "The Moon tried to get out of the way but couldn't and the mud got stuck to him."

He felt her breathing start to even out and he looked up to the sky above them.

"It is believed that since then the Moon has dark spots on its face, where the Sun threw mud at it."

And he felt sleep take its hold over his dear little fledgling and smiled up at the stars. It would be a long week, while he was away, but the thought of getting back to her would get him through it.


	179. Scars

Their day consisted of going to the beach and simply relaxing, enjoying their time together on this day of rest, and enjoy themselves they did. The four of them packed a pack of fresh fruits and sparkling water to drink, and made their way to their destination, and this time they were joined by others.

The Power and his two charges. The Messengers Lieutenant joined them.

And once again, their Father ensured that the day was perfect, so that His human friends could join them.

None of them were thrilled on that one but didn't dare say anything against the matter to their Father.

Akeelah giggled happily, kicking the sand at her two friends, to which they kicked back with just as much vigor. Lucifer smiled at the sight as he sat next to his older brother on the blanket they had brought with them. The Prince had a fond smile on his lips, as though the sound of the fledglings happy laughter was a balm for him, and leaned back on his hands to bask in the warm sunlight.

"Akeelah, Paul, come" The Healer beckoned them to him "We must get you in some sunscreen before you burn."

Both young ones made a face at the thought of the thick lotion, but ran up to him as he waved them close, bouncing excitedly at the thought of all they would get to do today, and tried to stand as still as they could while he rubbed the lotion into their arms and faces. He helped pull the sweater off from over her shoulders, to rub them with lotion, and faltered only slightly.

He had known about the beating, of course, she had told them and they had witnessed what had been wrought from it. But to see the scars up close were another thing. They were white little lines, raised areas of skin, in stripes, that decorated her upper back like an abstract piece of art. He stared at them for a long moment, so long that it caused the fledgling to look back in wonder, and her eyes looked down over her shoulder and then back up to him.

"Rapha?"

The Healer shook himself from his thoughts, curling his long nimble fingers over her thin shoulders to rub the lotion in, "My apologies, got lost in thought." She nodded, and if she guessed on what he was staring at she didn't say anything on it, and waited for him to nod at his finish to run off and jump into the rolling waves on the shore. Paul turned at his gesture to spin and he reached to rub lotion on the back of his neck, stopping when his fingers rubbed over a raised line, about the width of his forefinger in width and ran from his shoulders up to his hair line.

Not wanting to be caught again, he took a slight breath, giving him a slight push forward to indicate that he was done with him and watched as the boy ran off to join his friend in the cool water.

Young Sashael was still too shy to separate himself from the Power for very long, and thus had taken up a spot just a few steps away from their set up, patting damp sand into a pile over his legs. Nisroc sat just those few steps away, watching both him and his other young charge enjoy themselves.

"He has a scar." They all turned at the Healers soft intrusion, gazing upon him with curiosity, as he himself continued to watch them jump in the waves, "Running down the back of his neck."

The Messenger hummed from beside him, "Zaves has one running from his right shoulder down to his left hip."

They all turned to look at him, even the Healer, "How do you know that?", the one in question's master nodded, "I saw it when he was taking his shirt off." He watched his favorite of messengers jump in with them, taking them both up by their waists and fell backwards into the water behind him.

Nisroc listened to their conversation in silence, turning to look at his youngest charge, watching him build his mound over his legs. And something caught his eyes, something stuck out against his tan skin, and the Power tilted his head as he tried to get a closer look to it.

"Sasha?" The boy looked up at him at the sound of his name, focusing on his guardian, he ignored the looks he gained from the others that sat with them, "What's this?" he leaned forward to run a fingers down the raised part on his left side and the boy shivered in ticklish fashion.

"Nothin bad."

"That was not what I asked." The young boy turned to look at the offending mark "When we fell I was sent to live with a human family." He shivered as though remembering something they were not privy to, "They were like Thaddeus. But more human."

It was a tad heartbreaking, before finding the Power, he'd had rotten luck with caregivers even on earth.

"You fell?"

He nodded, fingers curling in the sand mound over his legs, "We all did. There was a lot of light and screaming and burning. It was really hot. Someone hit me, or they tried to grab me, all I remember was being hugged real close and then there was a loud boom and I was dropped."

His guardian looked surprised, "Someone caught you before impact?"

"Yep."

"Who?"

Sashael pointed to the young messenger running around in the waves, "His friend did. He was really hurt. And he couldn't talk. He had strings in his lips." He smiled brightly at last "But I saw him again and I could say thank you."

The Power lowered his chin slightly, "Did you ever learn his name?"

"He said his name was Gadreel."


	180. Defy

"Please don't make me." The fledgling hung onto the Power's leg as if it were his life preserver to save him from drowning in an unseen sea, the elder sighed and tilted his head back with a gentle hand atop, "Please Nis. Please don't make me."

"There is nothing to be fearful of, little one." The Captain brushed his hair back from his eyes, letting the light hit the soft amber, and they glowed like little rubies up at him, "Just other young ones such as yourself and the caregivers. It is not for long. I will come for you as soon as I return."

"Please! I don't wanna lose you!"

It caused another soft sigh, and the Power knelt, taking his cheek in hand, "I'm not going anywhere. I swear to you. It is just for the afternoon and you will come home with me to the Pavilion after."

Sasha leaned against the might Power with his entire weight, clutching tightly at the strap of his armor, "You promise?"

"I do. Have I ever lied to you?"

"You don't like it when we lie."

"That's right, my fledgling, so I would never do so to you. I will be back for you by sunset." He pointed behind the fledgling at something, or rather at someone, and Sasha turned to see what it was. Akeelah waved brightly, where she sat on a large rock munching on a peach half and slouched in on herself as she munched another bite, "And you will not be on your own. I am sure our Baby Power would be more than happy to play with you. You know her."

That seemed to appease the young ones nerves, and he nodded as he turned back around to return her waved greeting, hugging himself close to the Power for a moment, he finally allowed him to take his hand back as he let go of his fingers.

Sasha spared him one final look and turned to trot over to the other fledgling. Nisroc stood back straight, watching as they met each other, and the Baby Power scooted over on her rock for her friend to sit with her, passing over the other peach half as if it would fix everything.

He snorted softly in good humor, to her, it undoubtedly did fix everything.

He waved to them as he turned to make his way out, nodding to the two caregivers as he passed them, receiving a nod in return as he departed the Garden.

Akeelah turned to look at her timid friend, and swallowed her bite of peach, "It'll be okay. I get left here when they all have to go too. Just stay with me." To which Sasha nodded, nibbling on the peach half he was given "Don't you ever get scared that they won't come back and you'll be alone again?"

She nodded, "Always. But I know that there's others there in case they don't. Nis wouldn't have taken you in if he didn't have a backup plan."

"Really?"

"Yep. If anything happens to him then you go stay with Haniel. They swore an oath and everything."

He tilted his head as he turned to look at his friend, "How do you know?"

"I saw it through a window."

Akeelah finished off her peach half and turned to look at her friend, "Wanna play tag?"

"Yea, I'll play tag."

She tapped his arm and ran in the other direction, and he laughed as he made chase, weaving through the trees and high grasses, interrupting the caregivers as they tried to get the hatchlings settled in for their midday nap. Ignoring them when they called for them to lay down and rest. They kicked water at each other in the shallows of the sparkling lake, despite the caregivers telling them to stay out of the water.

He was so thoroughly distracted in their extensive game and frequent breaks, that he forgot about missing his guardian and the sun was quickly setting on their fun. They lay giggling in a patch of grass when a shadow fell over them both, and they looked up to meet the eyes of the Captain. Sashael jumped up from where he lay, quick in hugging himself to the mighty Power, nearly making him fall back from where he was kneeling.

"Nis, you're back!"

"I told you I would."

He smiled as he lifted the fledgling up from his feet, as he stood back up himself, and Sashael curled around him. Little Akeelah had spotted her waiting guardian as soon as the Power had stood back, and he turned to watch her be scooped up by the Morningstar.

"Are we going home now?"

The Power looked down at the little one he held close, "Yes, we are going home now."


	181. Nerve

"I won't help him."

The fledgling stared up at the archangel, despite being dwarfed in size by him, in challenge to his authority. The Messenger stared right back, eyes narrowing at her defiance, and leaned over her in superiority. She stepped forward and opened her arms in challenge to his stance.

"You will if I tell you that you will."

"Do it and find out."

They stared heavily at one another, the two hunters beside them watching, eyes bouncing from one to the other. Sam was mystified but Dean was starting to get annoyed but the wait.

"Dude, you're an _Archangel_, can't you just, like, _order _her to do it?"

"I could but—"

"You're not _my_ Archangel."

Gabriel felt his temper starting to boil beneath his skin at the open defiance to his order in the fledgling that stood before him, and his hands clenched into fists, whether she saw or not she made no indication that she neither had nor cared if she did.

"_No_, I may not be _yours_, but rest assured I'll _tell_ him."

"Do it! I don't _even_ care!" she stared right back at him just as hard "Still won't help him."

"You know that Raph want's you to practice at it, it's just a little sprain, just do it."

"Let it hurt then."

"You're being a brat."

"No! I'm being realistic!"

"Do it, or, you're going to bed early. No playing. No sitting with us at the table. No snacks. Just bed."

"Then I better get back and get ready."

The Messenger threw his hands up in defeat, "Fine, _brat_, I'll heal his sprain."

"Good. 'Cause I wasn't gonna."


	182. Immorality

Akeelah lived by her own standard, and in that standard, she tried to include everyone that she cared dearly for and taught them to march to the beat of their own drum. Conformity was an affront to individuality, and she took it as a self-made mission to teach all those close to her this lesson. Individuality was not a shame to bear, it was something to revere, something to behold, and something to allow to grow inside. She was the embodiment of individuality; dancing to her own beat and singing to her own inner song.

She lived that way even through the war, when most were treated as though they were of one unit, not as if there were their own person, and she continued to exude this strength even after.

_Light up, don't know how I did it from the beginning, my head's kinda spinning_

_Light up, I won't be forgiven, my life is forbidden, they say it's a miracle_

He had watched the fledgling from afar, as she walked with her friend around the Throne Room, having fallen into silence as her memories were returned to her. He could see the inner turmoil in His dear child, something He wished to take from her, but knew it would not aid her in the end. The pain of remembering and the sorrow of forgetting would make her stronger then she already was. He watched her take her friends hand in her own, looking up at him silently when he in turn looked down, and they shared a smile.

It brought hope to His heart.

_Sometimes I don't even know if I'm wrong or right_

_I try to drown the sorrow the surfaces that every night_

He saw her lay awake during the nights, from where He stood sentry in His throne, curled precariously deep in her friends side as he slept on unawares, it had been nearly a week since they had been taken into the throne room and reminded of things, they hadn't even known they hadn't known. He watched her as her wide eyes stared out the windows into the starry sky, and He twitched His finger, smiling at the awe that lit up her features when a star soared across the darkened sky, painting it brightly as it streaked through.

_I'm moving at a speed that makes everybody look slow_

_What happens if I let it go_

He watched from afar as His Morningstar made his way up the stairs to his Pantheon, as he broke the seals painted into the great stone doors, he himself had painted on long ago. He watched as His son slowly wandered in and encountered the unlikeliest of meetings. The little fledgling from before, His darling little daughter, peeking out from behind her protective barrier at the reappointed Choir Master. He had not lied, He never does, when He had that inkling some time ago, she really was the best of them, letting the tragedy that had befallen their family shape her into who she wanted to be, but never defining her as to who she was. He smiled to Himself as she peered out from her shield and slowly inched forward, watching as the little fledgling reached out for His Morningstar's hand, and she began the path of healing that the entirety needed.

He had told them all; _Hope can come from even the unlikeliest and smallest of forms. _

_But there ain't no way you're pulling me down_

_I recharge to speakers and sound_

_It's okay, it isn't you fault_

_Everything is alright_

He watched from afar as His little daughter encountered His mighty Archangels, as she enticed them, as she _changed _them. The littlest of fledglings instilled a heart in them that they struggled to build on their own, strengthened a hope that they didn't know they had lost, and showed them a love that they had thought they'd lost forever.

He watched as His eldest son softened again, coming out from behind the shell he'd built for himself, falling into the fledglings trance. He smiled when they visited the garden together, chasing one another between the trees, splashing in the crystal-clear water of the lake, laying among the soft grasses sharing stories of the stars from the archangels childhood. He felt hope once more, watching as the other fledglings watched them from afar, and slowly inched closer and closer to the mighty Archangel, until they sat with him and listened to his stories of before.

_Take me to a place I know_

_Anywhere that feels like home_

_Somewhere that if I let go_

_Someone's gonna catch my soul_

He smiled at the sound of His youngest Archangels laughter, something He had not heard since that fateful day all that long ago, watching with sparkling eyes as him and his fledgling companion ran around together. Went about his duties sharing jokes, played together in the garden, and together they brought a light back to Heaven that had been lost to time and anguish.

She was there when he broke down, deep in the depths of the garden and away from prying eyes, and He watched with hope as she crawled forward to help him in silence. Little fingers rubbing his tears away and a little body pressing into his as she hugged herself close.

_Show me love, sometimes when you give it you don't always get it_

_That's all that you wanted_

_Angels, watch like television_

_Got over my mission, so I gotta finish up_

He watched with a smile on His features as the little fledgling brought life back to His children, slowly but surely, in a way that He never could. He could mend many things, heal many wounds, but remaking the soul was not one of them. He could not make them who they were, only they could do that, it was their individuality.

He walked through the garden, listening to the bumbling brook and feeling the soft blades of grass glide over His bare feet, and came upon a clearing. All to herself, sat His little darling daughter, munching happily on a peach. He joined her in her silence, folding His legs under Him as He sat next to her.

"Hello, My little one."

She smiled up at Him, wiping her face with the long sleeve of her robe, cleaning away the juices left over from a ripened peach, "Hello Daddy!" and held out a bright peach to Him, "Do you want a peach?"

"I would love one, My daughter."

As He took the offered fruit in hand, dusting it off on His fine white robes, and took a bite from it's side, He thought to Himself only as He watched this particular fledgling turn back to her own stolen fruit and take a bite for herself. He watched as she leaned back, against His leg, and looked back up to the clouds above once more.

The key to immortality is first living a life worth remembering.

And hers was truly one worth remembering.


	183. Lonely

The Throne Room was silent as they waited for the arrival of the accused, around The Throne sat erected fur more thrones for the four Princes, and beside that of the Father sat one for the Sister. She had not made Herself present, thinking it not Her place, as these crimes had been committed before Her joining the family once again. Around them stood the masses of angels; healers and messengers, warriors and armors, shop and cart keepers, crafters and gardeners, they all stood in wait for the accused to be brought forward.

Beyond them, down the stone walk, the great doors opened and allowed the sun to shine in. They all turned to watch as the accused were marched forward, bound in the same crafted chains that had once bound the mighty Morningstar, lead forward by the Powers. The four of them were forced to their knees before the foot of Father's Throne, before the council of the Archangels, and their escort stepped back to stand before the crowd standing as a barrier should any try and get passed.

Little starry eyes spotted the one, Theo, and they filled with fear.

Standing behind the Morningstar; where he sat leisurely upon his throne, one arm bent upwards as he twirled a coin between his fingers, legs opened in a relaxed nature, lounging backwards in a comfortable state, their came a slight gasp. He sat up straighter, the gasp echoing around the silent Throne Room, and the twirling of the coin stopped as he reached behind his own throne with his spare hand. He guided the one behind him forward, dressed in the finest robes, braids done up with small purple flowers courtesy of Kokabiel and Joshua, came the little fledgling that had fallen under the restored Prince's charge. Her little fingers curled around his as she was guided out from behind his throne, around to his front, and he leaned forward to lift her into his lap.

The Choir Master sat back in his throne again, the fledgling leaning against his chest, and his twirling of the coin began anew.

He watched the fledgling curl around her master, hiding in his chest, her eyes trained on the one who had dared harm a fledgling. He smiled a sad smile to her when she turned to look up at Him, and turned to gaze over His other children, roaming over the four kneeling before Him for a moment.

Nisroc, the Captain of the Powers, adjusted slightly when two young ones appeared at his side through the crowd behind him. The younger of the two, still a fledgling despite his choosing of his flock, tugged on his tunic and the Power bent to the side to lift him up on his arm. The older of the two stood between him and his lieutenant, fingers curled in both of their trouser legs, as both young ones took in the sight of their former tormentors.

He saw His two broken children; Gadreel and Abner, lean on one another for support. The former guard had to close his eyes and look away, while the former sentry stared right ahead into the nothingness, both haunted by one of the ones kneeling before Him.

"This is not a court to determine guilt.", He looked down to the four of them before Him "This is a court to determine course of action in recompense."

There were many who had done horrid things during the advantage of the war, many who needed to face the council for punishment, many who were to be dealt with, but He thought to start with these four. They hurt those closest to Him, and in turn, they would be dealt with swiftly and harshly.

"Naomi." No one moved as His voice echoed around the silent room, it bounded off the walls as thunder did from gathering storm clouds, "Step to Me."

She was lifted to her feet by two guards and dragged forward. He raised an eyebrow at the blood dripping from her nose and temple, turning an eye to the unrepentant Captain and his two charges, and nodded in turn with his decision. It would be foolish to think, as he stood there with his hand curled over young Paul's head, that the elder would be peaceful in his delivery.

"Father, mercy, please?" The healer begged Him on hands and knees, her head bowed to His feet in recompense, but He was not easily fooled. "I only did what I had to survive."

"Did your patients ask you for mercy, My daughter," His tone was hard as He spoke back in turn "As you stole from them what was not yours to take?" she remained silent. "You were given the task of healing, as you so choose, and you turned those teachings into something unimaginable." He motioned to the side, a scribe, young and witty, stood waiting for her cue. She nodded and stepped forward at His beckoning, unscrolling a rolled-up piece of parchment as she stood before Him.

"Naomi." Ishariel, the scribe, ignored the eyes of their Father watching her and she looked up to meet the healers eyes "_Mindbreaker_." There was a soft call of her name in warning and she continued one "You are charged with the torture of innocents. Using gifts taught to destroy the conscious. Knowingly and willingly attempting to '_reprogram' _brothers and sisters. Stealing the memories of countless unwilling subjects; Manuel, Kassiel, Elijah, Ariel, Annael, Paul, Benjamin, Akeelah, Zaveriel, Sammael, Azazyl, Ramiel, among others. You are found guilty of abuse of a fledgling. The torture of fledglings. Of imprisonment and captivity. You are found guilty for the attempt of overthrowing the Healer as commandant."

Eyes turned to the Healer, where he sat in his throne, leaning to the left side. His chin was held in his palm as he watched the proceeding, one leg crossed over the other, and his free arm laid straight on the other armrest, his hand hanging limply off the edge. It was unbelievable that someone would try and usurp his position, a fellow healer that he would have trained and guided, and he ignored the looks as he stared at his former student.

"My son?" Father turned to look at him, the eyes of his former student turning in kind, and their gazes met "Do you have anything to say?"

Finally, he sat up in his throne, his arm still bent upwards, "I am disappointed." Among the crowd there was a shift, numerous healers shifting from one foot to the other, none wanted to ever disappoint their master, and by the look on the mindbreakers face, the fact remained true for her as well, "That my teachings would be used in such a manner. I treated you with nothing but kindness, and you would use that against me, as a double-edged sword." He leaned forward, "You have no place among us. I banish you from my flock. Strip you of your title. There is no forgiveness for what you have done. The torture and abuse of a fledgling is inexcusable. I have no place for you and never again will."

She stared at him, mouth agape, as he sat back once more and looked away. She was awed silent as she was forced back to her original position. Staring at the Healer who had long since forgotten her. His gaze focused on the boy who hid his face in the Power's leg, eyes just barely seen peeking out at them, and gave a minute nod when their eyes locked for the briefest of moments.

"Theo, Thaddeus, to Me."

Both were forced forward, to kneel at His feet, and they bowed their heads in turn. He nodded to the scribe, giving her a look to read only what she was meant to and leave her side comments to herself, to which she pretended not to see and turned to look to her scroll.

"Theo" her eyes lifted _"Traitor." _"Ishariel." She ignored the soft warning from behind her "You are guilty of the abuse of a fledgling. Using your training to your own advantage. You are guilty of torture and abuse. You are guilty for sending innocents to the mindbreaker knowing of her ways. You are guilty of the whippings and beatings of numerous fledglings; Sashael, Sampson, Jezaniah, Akeelah, Ezekiel, Eran, Bath Kol, among others."

He turned to look at His first prince, and Michael stared at his two Powers with a fire burning in his eyes "Have you anything to say, my son?"

The Prince nodded stiffly, sitting straight in his throne, he leaned forward, "I have no place among my ranks for those so dishonorable as to knowingly harm an innocent, let alone a fledgling. I strip you of your rank, of your title, and banish you from my Powers and flock. Never again will you harm those you are meant to protect." He leaned back, turning to glance at the fledgling that hid in his brothers arm.

Ishariel took a deep breath "Thaddeus." She ignored the glance of warning she shared with Father "_Bastard." _But shuffled where she stood at the feeling of His gaze on her from behind "You are charged with the abuse of a fledgling placed under your care. For the disregard of your prisoners. You are charged with the abuse of prisoners unjust with their sentence. You are guilty of the beating and torture of innocents and prisoners alike; Jeremiah, Sariel, Gadreel, Abner, Zazrael, Hazel, Sashael, Ingrid, among countless others."

Michael ignored him, focused on the fledgling in his brother's lap, and waved a hand at him, it was the same for both of the disgraced Powers. They would never have a place among his flock. He nodded and looked away from His prince to the Power just behind the prisoners.

"Nisroc, do you have anything to say?"

The Power looked up from his soft reassurance to his youngest charge, glaring at the one responsible for the need of it, and shook his head "None that I wish to say before young ears."

"Very well."

He nodded to the guard, as they dragged the two disgraced Powers back, without title and flockless, back to where they kneeled in the row. They dragged Metatron forward, and the scribe was the only one who had the audacity to glare at his treatment, glaring heatedly at the two guards, and they glared back in return, keeping from enacting their intent from the look their Father sent them.

They may be in the process of sentencing, but they would still be treated with respect, even if they perhaps didn't deserve it. It shamed Him that His children could treat one another in the way they treated theirs. He had thought that His children had been raised better than that. Nisroc had raised Thaddeus, and now he raised his charges charge, He knew that the Power would have raised the exiled Power with nothing but kindness, it was seen as he stood there comforting the young ones as they faced their tormentors once more. How they could come from such care and kindness and turn into this, that was what confused even Him, where had they gone wrong?

"Metatron." Ishariel fell silent, glaring at the scribe, and it concerned Him when the outspoken young scribe didn't comment on him further and instead turned back to her scroll, "You are found guilty of treason against the Throne of our Father. In the attempt to usurp the thrones. Found guilty of knowingly and willingly sending others to their unwarranted fate. You are guilty of abuse and mistreatment of fledglings. You are found guilty of the Second Fall, and the lives lost in the aftermath, you are guilty of fratricide and sororicide. You are guilty for misusing the Word of our Father for dark intentions. You are guilty of kidnapping and manipulation."

Whispering overtook the crowd, as they all watched the one who had caused them so much pain, who had made them Fall from the home they've ever known.

He raised a hand and silence was cast once more, and He turned to His Messenger, Gabriel sat up from his lounging position and he sat up straighter at His gesturing.

"Gabriel, have you anything to say?"

The Messenger nodded, looking down to the captive scribe with heat burning, so unlike how his eyes usually were.

"I am astounded that one of my own could do this. Could cause such havoc and pain among our own while they suffered already. I've always had a bad feeling about you, I told Him that you were bad news, always living with dreams much too big. But shame on me for being the optimistic one, always looking for the good in people, I should have known." The Messenger leaned forward "You are a disgrace to my flock, a disgrace to me teachings, a disgrace among our family. I banish you from my flock, I strip you of your place, and I cast you out of my grace. You will die alone. You will die knowing that you failed. And we will live on to forget you. You tried and you failed."

"I did what others were too weak to do."

The Messengers temper snapped, something that was not easy to accomplish, and he stood quickly from his throne. The youngest Archangel had always been compassionate for his family, always cared for the younger generations, he'd helped raised the first few of them, and when one stood against them it was something akin to them standing against him personally.

"_No_. You took advantage of the situation to enact your own move for power. You've caused so much unneeded and unwarranted pain and chaos. You _dirty, rotten—"_

_"__Gabriel_, that is enough."

He raised His hand, but did not stand from His seat, and silenced the raging Messenger with a mere look. Gabriel huffed, meeting His gaze in challenge, and gave his surrender as he sat back down in his throne.

Silence rang through the Throne Room as He watched the four of them in silence and all eyes turned to Him as they waited for His word to ring true.

"It pains Me to know that I failed as Father to you. Perhaps had I been more attentive and a bit more firmer My children would not have caused each other such pain. I forgive you for your actions against our family, and I will never stop loving you, but I give this sentencing to the council. It was not Myself who was acted against."

The Prince stood from his throne, "The Council has come together, the decision made is for the four of you together. You will be stripped of your flight, cast to the earth for eternity, the four of you will be locked within the pit for the rest of your lifetime. Cut away from the warmth and love of the family you so choose to harm."


	184. Shower

He woke to the sound of giggling from his side, and though part of him told him to open his eyes to see what they were giggling about, the other part was comfortable and did not want to move just yet. It had been a long mission to the ancient world to assist the Healers godling charge, and he wanted nothing more then to rest in the soft grasses of the garden, laid out in a warm patch of sun, with his charges safely nearby.

Nisroc gasped up at the sudden drenching of cool water from the lake, he sat up quickly, rubbing water from his eyes and his hair back, the giggling of his two mischievous fledglings ringing from his other side.

Gone was the desire to merely relax in the sun, as he was now cool and soaked, and instead he was filled with the desire for revenge. He was quick in snatching them up, fingers curling around a wrist each, he tugged them down with him in his now wet patch of grass.

Paul was still laughing at their successful, and soon laughed because of the hand that had snuck up his tunic and dug into his belly underneath, trying as much as he might to pull the handout. He jumped and shrieked when those skilled fingers found a particularly sensitive spot.

"Nis! Nis _no_! _No!"_

He chuckled, leaning over his youngling, the little fledgling held securely in his other arm, and pressed his temple to his younglings.

"Perhaps, you should have thought your devious little plan through just a bit better, now it is my turn for tricks." He squeezed his little hip softly, making the boy jump again and fingers curl around his wrist, "Now you stay put while I deal with your partner in crime."

Sasha yelped as he was tugged around and laid in grass next to his friend and brother, he had not been around for too long, he was still getting used to having a guardian as kind as the Power was and fear set in that perhaps he had gone too far this time. He tried to crawl away, as fingers curled around the spot just under his knee, pulled his little leg slightly, and fingers curled into his little thigh.

Fears completely forgotten, the fledgling kicked as best as he could, and cried out in laughter.

Above him, his new guardian chuckled at his reaction, pulling his leg open just a bit more, and he kicked at him with his free foot instead.

"We should have explored this a bit more, regretfully I found myself busier then expected, though I do wonder-?"

He curled his fingers around his little wrist instead, letting his leg go, and leaned forward as he lifted it above his head and poked a finger into the revealed spot underneath, wiggling it just a bit as if testing the waters. He was rewarded with more bright peals of laughter from his quiet little fledgling.

"You have no idea how adorable you are."

The fledgling tugged on his arm weakly.

"And I did not forget about you", Paul shrieked brightly when he grabbed at his side and gaze a good squeeze, "Now how about one of you tell me what we've learned today?"


	185. Animal

"I see you've acquired a pup."

Lucifer gestured to the dark furred dog that was following languidly at his brothers feet, whining pitifully ever other second, Michael turned to look down at his companion and nodded, patting his head fondly.

"He bit Castiel."

Erathaol whined again, laying on his belly, covering his eyes with his paws. The Morningstar snorted and nodded in time, kneeling down to scratch at that one spot behind his ears.

"I don't blame you, pup."

The elder archangel smacked him over the head "Don't encouragement him!"

"What I can't help it!" he scratched under the angel hounds chin, smiling when he felt the weight of his younger brothers head rest on his palm, he always enjoyed these attentions, more hound then angel at this point, "I'd bite him too."

"And I'd smack you harder then I did him."

He lifted the soft head and pressed a kiss to his snout, "Did our mean big bad big brother smack you?" and the angel hound nodded pitifully, whining softly, scooting closer to the Morningstar. "He should have been more sympathetic." He cast an amused glance up to his older brother, Michael met his gaze and crossed his arms, eyebrow raising in warning, "I mean, biting Castiel could have given you an upset tummy." The blonde archangel jumped away from his older brother, ducking under his hand, laughing all the while. He waved over his shoulder and disappeared through the doorway in search of his darling fledgling.

Erathaol whined again and Michael looked down at him with narrowed eyes, "It did _not _give you an upset tummy."


	186. Explosive

They were few and far in between, those who were known as the 'Star Children', two of the most commonly known being little Akeelah and young Zaveriel. They were powerful, deceivingly so, and often exploded when pushed too far. 'Star Children' were those who He had made for specific reasonings, for specific purpose, and those two were ones He watched rather closely.

It surprised even Him, though, when the ever-happy messenger exploded.

His explosion followed one too many comments from one of those who allied themselves with his least favorite seraph, in regards to his master and his station and his position in the war, without any regard for his own hearing and feeling.

With the swiftness he had learned from his time training under Michael and the Powers, he had the other by the throat and lifted them from their feet, despite his being on the shorter end, and thrust them into the stone path under them. They choked from the impact, the burning of the messengers grace seeping into his fingers.

Others around them gasped and jumped away, yelling for some to get an archangel, other for some to get the Messenger himself, and others just yelling to get help. Abraxos and Puriel were the first on the scene, and they struggled getting the messenger to let go of the one he was so focused on, the one from what they had heard had insulted his flock and master greatly.

He stood still despite their tugging at his arms and their attempts to get him to back up, to release the lowly seraph, anything to get him back before he caused any real damage.

"Next time you say something like that," he squeezed the reddening neck for effect and sealant of his promise "I'll tear your tongue out and feed it to you." They looked away from their query as their captain broke through the crowd of mystified bystanders, and stalled when he merely rolled his eyes, and stepped forward to accomplish what they had failed at for the good part of twenty minutes.

"Really, now." He bent mid step to wrap his hands around the young messenger's midsection, standing nearly four and a half heads taller then the small messenger, and gave his middle a harsh squeeze "Let him go." He gave another squeeze and the messenger jolted, his arms coming down, as the taller Power stood back to his full height and took the messenger with him. Zaveriel curled up and turned to look at his tall friend "Hey 'Roc, mind doing me a solid and letting me go?"

"If I put you down, are you going to attack him again?"

"I don't think I want to answer that."

The Power squeezed his middle again and the messenger curled up from where he dangled from the others hold, "OKAY! Okay. Yes. I will probably jump right back into it."

"That's what I thought you'd say." He turned away from the angel slowly starting to get back to his feet "So, no, I will not let you go. I need a new belt and you'll come with me."

"You're a horrible friend."

"The worst."

And there were some who could control these 'Star Children', tame them some might even say, and the Archangels were four of them. As was the Captain of the Powers.

Him and the Healer had the young messenger under control.


	187. Fight

"Little one?" she looked down from her perch at the Prince's left shoulder into his inquisitive eyes "Can I ask you a question?"

"You just did."

He pulled her down into his arms quickly, and she giggled at the sudden change in position, smiling up at him instead.

"I know I did, you sneaky little thing."

She giggled again and nodded to his previous inquiry, and he continued on walking through the hiring ranking warriors training in hand to hand, rocking her in his arms as he did.

"Why do you not come to us when you are in need of help?"

"Oh." She pulled herself up to sit right in his arms, curling her arms around his neck, "That's easy. Because when you all go away again and I need to fight for my self I gotta be sure that I can."

"But we aren't going anywhere."

"You don't know that."

He understood though, sometimes more than others did, after having to take care of oneself for so long it was hard to change anything that had kept them alive, even when aid was offered.

Michael leaned down to kiss her nose, "Will you promise me, though?"

"Promise what?"

"If its too big, or too bad, please come tell me."

She stared at him and for a moment he was sure she would fight him on it, and then she leaned in closer to kiss his cheek and lay her head on his shoulder.

"Okay. I promise."

"Thank you, my little warrior." He stroked the back of her head "Take you nap, now."

"How did you manage such a thing so _easily_?"

The Captain had fallen instep with them, and he smiled kindly to the fledgling that smiled up at him in greeting, giving his commander a look of amusement. He didn't care who she promised, or how long it took to gain it, so long as she followed through on it.

"I just have that affect on them, Nisroc."

"Or they're too afraid to say _'no'_."

Michael stopped to look over at his amused Captain, "If you think I won't bring you to your knees, you are thinking _wrong_, my dear baby brother."

"Can you manage it?"

He turned, reaching for the Power, "Where was it again? Just above the highest left rib?" to which his Power laughed freely and jumped away from his side, jogging in the other direction for safety, the archangel did not make threats he did not intend to follow through on.

"You guys are silly!"

"Oh really?", he made as though he was reaching for her belly and she giggled away from him, "Imma take a nap now."

"That's what I thought you said."


	188. Gentle

"Easy." He curled his arm around the others waist carefully, guiding him forward, after a long day at the Infirmary for his extensively wounded wings he was exhausted and desired to lay back down in his soft bed "Just a few more steps. We can take a break if you need." He breathed deeply, even the smallest of paces still a bit too much for him but he shook his head stubbornly. He could rest when he made it back to his bed. "Okay, 'Reel, we can do it, just a few more steps."

Those steps, four in total, from the door to his bed next to the window, were perhaps the longest steps he had ever take in his lifetime. Each one sent rolls of burning achiness up his legs, through his lower back, covering throughout his entire person.

The bed was so close now, he could almost feel the cloud-like bed, the silky blankets, the softness of the pillow under his head. Where he could lay until the ache faded away again.

Michael bent with him as he slowly lowered the retired Sentry down, setting him on the bed, and helped him lift his legs and twist around to lay. The Archangel lifted his feet as he sat down on the lower end of the bed, lowering them into his lap.

"You're making great progress." He pressed his thumb into the sole and rubbed a soothing circle over and over again, smiling when the younger sighed in relief, "You walked nearly all the way there and back again."

"It is not good enough." The sentry covered his face with his hands, missing the frown from his elder brother, groaning in frustration. "I should be able to walk there and back, and _more_, there is no _progress_."

"There is though, 'Reel, more then you can even see, it'll just take time."

"I am weak. I should have gotten passed this by now."

"You are not weak. The farthest thing from."

Finally, he let his hands fall, revealing the sadness in his darkened eyes, and it saddened the elders heart to see it. He knew that he was the cause, and it hurt him every time he saw it, the proof of his own mistakes living before him in person.

"But I am, Micha." Though the pet name brought a smile to his face, he hadn't heard it from one of _his _charges in such a long time, sure, little Akeelah called him as such, but to hear it from this angel whom he had done such wrong to, warmed his heart. "I am. "

"You are not." He stopped his rubbing circles in his foot, "And I want you to say it."

"But I cannot say what is not true."

"It is if I say it is." The Prince looked down at the feet in his lap and smiled slightly, he hadn't done so since he had been a small youngling, barely coming up to he knee, and he wondered if it still held true even after all he had endured "And I will get you to say it."

"How?" that curiousness in his tone had been there since he had been a small fledgling, first given to him to raise, and he smiled at its return. Michael smiled up at him, turning his attention down to his feet instead, "If I remember correctly, and my recollection is pretty clear most days, it was always the feet with you." It took a moment for the comment to be absorbed and for understanding to dawn on him, and then the young sentry's eyes widened, "You wouldn't?...After all this time…?"

"It is not something I would ever forget. Oh, the days I would have you rolling in the soft grasses of the Garden, do you remember 'Reel? One flick of fingers over these little feet were enough to turn you to goo. Now," he took careful hold of his ankles, "Will you say it, or will I have to encourage it?"

"I—I can't."

"I'm not ashamed to say that part of me was hoping you would say that."

Michael dug a single finger into the arch of the foot, and the affect was instantaneous, he watched as those darkened eyes lit up bright, a relaxed smile coming over him, as he tried to hold in the laughter that had once rang like music for him all that time ago.

He tutted softly, "None of that, if I remember correctly, it was the toes that were the worst."

If the others returned and heard the bright bubbly laughter coming from within their oldest brothers room, they paid it no mind and left that business to itself. There was only one other person who would be in that room with him and they all thought under the same ideal that he could use a bit more laughter.


	189. Girls

"What could a _girl_ possibly do to _me_? All they do is pick flowers and chase butterflies."

Sasha and Paul backed up a step, covering their mouths in a fit of silent laughter, peering around to see the others still over at their clearing talking amongst themselves, thoroughly distracted from any trouble they could be causing.

The youngling laughed at the threat she could possibly hold, underestimating the fledging due to flock placement and height, Akeelah was a tiny little thing and most others often underestimated the fledglings power because of it. Their two audience members silently placed their bets, the loser having to do the others chores for a week, and Paul begrudgingly placed a bet on the other one for the sake of betting.

Secretly both knew who would win.

Akeelah fell still at the insult, ignoring the stifled laughter from her two friends, she turned around to face the one that had tried to invite into their game of tag.

"What did you _just_ say?"

He snorted, "You heard me, _girl_."

She stared at the youngling for a long moment, her two friends cheering her on softly from behind, neither one of their party wanting to alert the others to their happenings, as was the politics of being a youngling in these times, the first rule about fight club was that you didn't speak of it, and street justice won out on all.

"I could take you, _boy_."

"Doubt it. You might get hurt. Why don't you go back to picking flowers and leave us to play tag."

Her fingers curled into fists, "Stop _saying_ that."

"What are you going to do to make me? _Hit _me?"

He was left surprised when she balled her fist in tightly, pulled it back, and punched him straight in the nose. It cracked and he fell back with a yelp, hands coming up to clutch at the break in shock, when she jumped on him. They rolled around in the dirt for some time before they were separated, red blood mixing into mud, and they were lifted from the ground by the scruff of their robes.

Paul and Sashael fell silent under a stern glare from their guardian.

Akeelah ignored them all, the others appearance, the inquiry as to what had happened, and smiled victoriously at the youngling before her.

"Why don't _you _just pick flowers next time!"


	190. Illusion

Her scream of fear had them all jumping from their beds again, not so often now that she was starting to get used to the war being over, her memories returned, but those nights still happened. This time, when Michael rolled from his bed, he turned to help the Sentry, he knew that Gadreel would not return to sleep until he knew that the fledgling was alright.

There was a glow coming from the Morningstar's doorway, the glow of the fledglings grace as she pulled on it again, they all stumbled into his room in time to see her power snap and the world shifted and faded.

Gabriel looked around in wonder, he was the master of such things after all, and turned to the unconscious fledgling in wonder, "We're in a pocket reality."

Behind him, Michael pulled him around, "What do you mean we are in a pocket reality? She is only a fledgling!"

"Who we watched her create a star. Not even we could do that until we were much older. She did it a couple months ago."

The Morningstar brushed his hand over her head, brushing the curls backwards out of her eyes, but it was the Sentry who pointed out what they were all missing. The one major detail they seemingly managed to overlook.

"But we are still in Heaven." Gadreel stepped forward with the aid of the Healer "We are still in the Morningstar's room." They all looked over to him for a moment, and then turned to examine his exclamation, taking in the Morningstar's room around them still. "Look at the dust though." The Healer had swiped a finger of his free hand over the desk top, bringing it away darkened with dust and filth.

"Father just returned their memories a few months ago, perhaps we are not so much as in an illusion, but a memory?"

Michael crossed his arms loosely, looking over at the fledgling in wonder, at just how much she still kept from them and just how much they had yet to learn. The only thing in common between the here and now, and the then and was, was the thunder rumbling through the darkened sky.

The Villa was empty, the wind was the only sound that came from outside and in, and he knew it to be a time during the war, when he stayed in his office at the Pavilion and the Healer in the Infirmary.

"Guys?" the Messenger's voice carried over to them from over the thunder, he had moved away from the Morningstar's side, and stood just outside the door, "I think you're going to want to see this?" The second eldest stayed with his unconscious charge, but the Healer (and in association Gadreel) and the Prince followed to peer outside the door.

Someone had broken into their villa, they were watching it, the shadow moving over the darkened halls and lonely walls. Lightning lit up the room and they watched the little brown heel of the intruder disappear into the Healers room, another flash and they returned dragging a blanket behind them.

The identity of the intruder caught the breath in their chests, as the memory vessel of their little fledgling ran through them, and turned into the Morningstar's abandoned room. Lucifer stared at her with wide eyes as she stopped before his desk to search for something, taking a minute to spot it, and snatched it up before running for the great bed.

Not daring to lay on top, like where she lay now, she dropped to her hand and knees and crawled underneath. Her feet disappeared and soon her stolen blanket did too.

They stared at the darkness that hid her under there, no one was sure what to say, the Morningstar seemed just as surprised as they were at her sudden appearance.

_'__Akeelah?' _Gabriel turned at the whisper of a voice, knowing its owner anywhere, and turned towards the door in time to see the memory of his chaotic troublemaking captain peering around the edge of the doorway. _'Akeelah, are you in here?'_

Zaveriel peeked into the room, his hand curled around the blanket he too has stolen from the Messengers room, and they watched as the head of little dark curls peeked out from under the safety of the shadows under the bed.

_'__I am here.'_

They watched as he smiled, ran through the Prince, and dropped to his belly in order to crawl under the bed too. They both disappeared, and they figured that they'd probably remain there until morning, and turned to look at one another in mystified silence.

"He slept with my blanket." The Messenger sounded awed, sad beyond belief, but awed. The Healer seemed to be suffering under the same ailment, "The fledgling slept with mine?"

"Lucifer?" the Morningstar finally looked away from the shadows under his bed to meet the inquisitive gaze of his older brother, "How close were you back then?"

"Much closer then I was aware of, seeing this." He shook his head "We played together often, she always welcomed me when I returned to the Pantheon each day, but she often did so from Jeremiah's side."

"If you don't mind me asking.." the Sentry spoke up from where he was using the Healer as his crutch, having gotten up much too quickly, standing was now a bit more of a challenge, though the Healer didn't seem put out from holding him up "What did she take from your desk?"

He shrugged and finally left his charge's side to examine the belongings left to gather dust. There was various papers strewn about, various knick-knacks, a crown of flowers wilting from the garden (probably given as a gift from a pair of young fledglings), books of hymns, his own personal book, a journal. There was something missing, but he couldn't quite place it. It always sat on the center of his desk, it was where he had left it that fateful day, not knowing that he would never return for it.

"My star."

"What?"

Lucifer turned to look at them all, "My star." He gestured towards the elder archangel, who seemed to catch on quicker as an expression of comprehension overcame him, but he explained for the others benefit "When it was just me and Michael, just after Father told us that He was going to create another brother, Raphael, we each made each other a star. It was hallow in the middle, dead, and we filled it with a piece of grace each and gave it to each other. Michael took mine and I took—"

"Mine."

Michael finished for him as he too turned to look at their fledgling, wondering just how much they really knew and how much they still had yet to find out, "Did you ever find it when you returned?"

"No. Never. I thought it had been lost in the Fall or taken back." Lucifer gestured toward his older brother "I see you no longer wear yours." He sounded hurt by it and Michael was quick to admit "I gave mine to her. She keeps it under her robe now. But she has it. I thought it best seeing as it was a piece of you."

"And she took yours." Lucifer turned to peer at his charge too, "I wonder if she still has it?"

"It would not surprise me. But what does, is that she would waste time looking for it to take, she couldn't have known that it was mine."

"But she knows what my grace burns as, a silver icy blue, yours is fire, its orange and red."

"How does she know that?"

"I used to make snowflakes for the fledglings of my Choir during moments of rest. Got to keep them entertained or they'll wreak havoc."

"The fledgling still sought me for protection even during this time?"

The Messenger nodded before the Morningstar could, "Seems like it." He turned to look at each one of his brothers, "How do we get back?" the Healer stepped up next to him, helping the Sentry as he did, "Wake her up. We're in a dream, possible memory or not, it's still a dream. Just wake her up."

Lucifer nodded at the instruction from the younger archangel, kneeling beside her on the bed, hearing nothing but soft breathing between cracks of thunder coming from underneath, and brushed her curls back again.

"Wake up, my little one, you're having a dream." She stirred under his touch, the room around them changing and fading again, the dust disappeared and new trinkets started appearing in place of old ones, "Wake up for me."

Her eyes fluttered as the room shifted into place, "Luci? Why'd you wake me up?." She yawned a big yawn and cuddled back down into his pillow "I was sleeping."

"I know, little one. I'm sorry." he smiled and bent forward to kiss her temple, "You can go back to sleep now."

"Wha's everyone doin' here?"

"They wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Okay Luci, Imma go ba' to s'eep."

"Sweet dreams, little one."


	191. Night

"Alrighty then." The Morningstar pat his little companions belly as he addressed his brothers around them, "I think we're going to turn in for the night." They nodded in understanding and bid them a good night, waving to the little fledgling as she waved at them from over his shoulder as she was carried out. The Choir Master hummed under his breath as he walked them through the hall towards their room, "I think we should wash up tonight, what say you?" His cargo leaned back on his arm to meet his eyes and nodded, it had been a fun day for her, and she had gotten into all sorts of things in the garden "Good, because I wasn't going to let you in my bed otherwise."

She giggled at him, "You woulda!"

"I _woulda, _I'll admit, but you would have slept on your little lonesome on the edge of the bed. I for one already washed up, and do not intend on needed to do so again, you wouldn't have been able to use me as your personal pillow."

The fledgling pouted at him and he chuckled as he reached into his wardrobe for a spare tunic, the little thing had her own, but only fell asleep in one of his. She claimed it was because it was comfier, Raphael disagreed, and instead explained that it smelled like him and therefore made her feel safe as she slept in a vulnerable state.

He didn't care other way, honestly, if she liked to sleep in his shirts he wouldn't deny it to her.

Tunic hung over his free arm, he walked them back out of the door and further down the hall, the wash room was at the end and was built into the rocky mountain side their Villa was built against in this vast personal garden.

It was a beautiful place, they had built it together, the one masterpiece that had each of their touches placed in the exact right way. The Healer had made the garden; the trees and flowers and colorful fauna in mirror image of The Garden he had given to Joshua's care when the war had broken out and his duty as Healer was more pertinent then as Gardener. The Prince had created little breaks in the thick trees, the clearings, and the lake just beyond the way. He liked to sit in the warmth of a sun spot or read on the shore of their lake, sometimes he enjoyed just simply sitting there and watching the rippling water sparkle against the sun above, it was peaceful and calming, and after everything, he enjoyed it more humbly now. Her Choir Master had brought the breeze, that blew through the trees and over the grasses, singing its own song as it did, the music of the garden was hypnotizing, and he had brought the birds that chirped and sang their bird song for them alone to hear. He liked to simply sit by his windows, or in some secluded spot in their garden, and listen to the sound of nature. Everything had a song, if you listened close enough, and he liked to tune into this one as much as he could. Last, but certainly not least, the Messenger had pulled the ground upwards, creating the mountain that their Villas was built against, he created the ledge up above them, that hung over a sea of clouds, and he often perched up their just to watch them roll into their various shapes. He liked being up high, Zaves joked that it was because he was so much shorter then the other Archangels, and just watching as everything passed underneath him.

The wash room was pretty too, her eyes always automatically drawn to the bioluminescent crystals that hung above (courtesy of her Choir Master too), the stone was cut smoothly, always warm to the touch (from the heat of the Prince) and she wiggled her toes against it as she was set down. There was another sparkling lake, it shimmered under the crystals, constantly turning with the water that glided down the smooth stone across the other end. It got as deep as the oldest brothers shoulders and as shallow as she could stand on the edge and the water lapped at her ankles.

"Arms up."

The fledgling was sleepy, too much to do anything but obey the soft request, and she lifted her arms to allow him to pull her robe up over her head.

Lucifer knelt before her, stroking her cheek softly with the backs of his fingers, "Do you think you can do it on your own?" she nodded softly and he handed her a bar of lavender scented soap, watching her wade out to sit in the shallows, the water coming up to curl around her chest, before turning to rearrange a few pieces that his younger brother had left sitting about, setting the tunic over a vent in the stone to warm it. He watched her from over his shoulder just to be safe, she was tired from her exciting day, and he prepared himself to step in if he was needed to.

But he wasn't and she was soon curling up in a soft towel, reaching for the warmth of his arms again, and he was happy to oblige her request. He soon had her in his tunic, her wild curls tamed for the moment from the water, and she tucked her head in close on his shoulder.

"Are you ready for bed, my little fledgling?"

The Morningstar rubbed small circled against her back as he walked them from the washroom, back down the hall, towards their room. She nodded, her damp curls brushing over his chin, and he smiled as he laid them both down on his bed.

"Then let's go to bed."


	192. Truths

They gathered in the Council Chamber once more, on one side sat the four Archangels, and on the other the ones they had called into the meeting. Nisroc sat nearest the Prince, both charges on either knee, one leaning forward on the table with crossed arms and the other leaning back in the crook of his arm. Jeremiah and Hazel sat next to him, Jezaniah perched on the Elders knee again, his arm curled around the little waist to keep him in place, and more surprisingly on the Elder's left sat Sariel who looked as though she was ready to bolt at any given opportunity. Next to the Choir Elder, sat Oren, with small Adonis sitting on his right knee, leaning back into his stomach. Next to the Virtue sat the retired Sentry, Gadreel, look a bit worse for wear, shadows haunted his once bright eyes, but he sat there in strength unknown.

Across from them all, the last of their party, little Akeelah sat with the Morningstar. She leaned back against his chest, her little hand curled around the one he had curled around her stomach protectively, watching the Council in similar fashion as the others were.

"We thank you for coming." They each nodded in turn to the Prince, though without the option to not to if they didn't desire it, no one could ignore a summons to the Council. "There is no one else we can seek the answers to the questions we have."

They each looked uneasy, for good reason, whenever they were called to the chamber, this particular group, it was to discuss things they would rather be left in the past. But one couldn't begin the process of healing if no one knew what they were healing from.

The Council of Archangel exchanged looks, and the Healer carried on with the subject even they were nervous to broach, "We wish to ask about The Fall."

"What is there to ask?", Sariel was the first to speak up, tone harsh, if a bit too quiet, "You banished out Choir Master. Everyone knows this."

"Yes." The Messenger was serious for this meeting, and they all knew by such, that business was meant "We do. When he says The Fall, he means the second one, caused by our exiled brother." The Healer nodded, thanking him with his eyes for elaborating where he couldn't, and turned to look at them each in kind "

The ones on the other end exchanged looks, it was their story to tell, their secrets to share, and they knew that if they denied such a request that it would not be forced on out of respect for their privacy, hence the reason they were being asked.

Gadreel rubbed at his face, eyes closed, "Even being freed from my confines of the Prison, I was still held captive, forced to commit crimes that others have been punished for, why not I?"

Michael leaned back in his chair, looking over to the Sentry, though his eyes were averted and it sent a jolt of pain through him. When he had sentenced the Sentry, he had been grief stricken at the loss of his brother, perhaps the one he had been closest to, and had spared no mercy. The blame for the tortures he endured was on him alone. He had allowed him to be locked away and the key to be lost without care. He knew when the younger woke in the middle of the silent night in terror. He knew every flinch that was had. Every ounce of pain he still felt from wounds that would never truly heal.

"Because, Gad, you did not want to do so. Those who have been punished did those acts out of their own violition, you acted on the desire for redemption, you had your dreams used against you and given false promises in return. You are no murdered. You are a martyr. A poor abused martyr."

He reached across the table, clutching at the hands that lay folded tightly on the otherside, "Your redemption has been made, young one, you are free despite how much I know it still torments you. Meet me after this meeting, would you?" Gadreel nodded, looking down still, though he did curl the fingers of his free hand over the Archangels that lay still clutched around his.

"I was found by human warriors in blue shirts." Sashael raised his hand, surprising the Power he sat on, and looked ahead at the council only, not wanting to meet his guardians eyes, "And they took me to this big building with a lot of others. The next morning, I was put in the back of one of their automobiles and taken to a home. It wasn't a home." He curled his fingers around those of the hand that lay lightly across his lap, tightly he clutched at them, and still refused to meet the Power's gaze "Everyone knows what Thaddeus did because of the sentencing. They all know how he was. He was bad. This home I was taken to was bad too. They did the same thing he did, but they just didn't gave the power to keep me in place, I hid most of the time. In a closet under the stairs. I'm good at that. Hiding. I think it's the only thing I'm good at sometimes, especially over being a warrior, that's why I was pulled out of training."

Nisroc finally had enough of him refusing to meet his gaze and tilted his head upwards with the hand the boy clutched at so strongly, "You know that's not true. You are truly masterful at so many things; your drawings that you've shown me are masterpieces, your ability to overcome, the way you trust despite past treatment, your ability with a short blade is outstanding." He tapped his chin with his finger "And you were pulled from training because you are still so _young_, my _fledgling_. Not because of lacking any skill. Most of your friends were pulled with you, given new guardians, or returned to those previously had, depending on their situation. Had I known you had felt this way I would have told you the reasoning."

The Prince nodding in agreement in front of them, "Indeed, you skill with a blade, despite being so young, is impressive. It has captured even my attention. You and young Paul here. You may have been pulled from training to live what's left of your fledglinghood, but it does not overtake the choice you made, once you are old enough you will rejoin my ranks in training."

"I remember the way it burned." Jezaniah looked up to the Choir Elder, "When we all fell. I was standing in the atrium at the center of the Pantheon and then I fell, and it _burned_." All of those, heartbreakingly with the young ones, nodded in remembrance. The only one who didn't seem to know the pain of the burning was Gadreel, whose wings had been partially destroyed enough that the nerve endings had been fried, he hadn't felt more then the pain he always felt now. "I heard everyone screaming as well fell to the earth below. And when we landed. It hurt when we landed too. I fell with Ariel." He looked down then "Only I came back."

Akeelah picked up where he left off, "I remember hearing Castiel's name. That he was trying to seal the gates and Metatron had tricked him. He caused all of this….. unneeded hurt…..If he had sealed us in…I don't know what would have happened." Her expression darkened "All he cares about are those stupid _monkeys_. He doesn't care about us. He doesn't care about _any _of us! Hadn't we all hurt enough already?" and with her piece spoken she curled back into her guardians chest and remained there, joining them in only appearance, refusing to say any more from then on.

The meeting adjourned and they slowly parted; Jeremiah returned the three of them to the Pantheon, Nisroc took his two charges up and left for the Pavilion, Lucifer and the younger two archangels disappeared with their little fledgling in tow. The only one who remained was the Sentry, at the word of the Archangel he had once served under, and he sat where he had taken seat when he'd first arrived, staring down at his scarred hands.

"I can not begin to understand the horrors you faced." The Archangel had watched him for the better part of a minute before he stood to step around the table, and despite his touch being soft and gently, the Sentry still flinched, "All I can do is apologize, despite how useless words may be, for what I had done to you."

"It is I who should apologize."

"No. Never. You had been deceived by one who had been raised to trust, and in my blindness, in my rage, I ignored that fact."

Michael knelt before him, taking his shaking hands into his own, holding them steady despite their desire to quake.

"I hear your screams in the middle of the night, from the room in the Infirmary where you stay, and it breaks me to know that I am the true cause for such terror that you feel."

Gadreel looked up from his hands to meet the eyes of the one who had once raised him, the one who he had thought he could trust to protect him no matter what may come, and the one who had broken it with such ferocity. Michael looked concerned, saddened, perhaps even a little broken.

"I have had a bed prepared for you in my rooms, you will come stay with me until we get you a room of your own made, and I may be there to help should you need it."

"I am alright."

"Please, little 'Reel." Hearing such a name, a pet name he had been given as a young fledgling, hearing it again brought a smile to his features despite how hollow he felt, "I should not ask anything of you, not after what I've put you through, but do it for me?" The Sentry watched him for a moment, before he nodded, making ready to get to his feet. Everything was a struggle now, even the simplest of things, and he was grateful for the Archangel being there to help him stand. "Come, we will return, it has been exciting today, you need to rest."


	193. Quake

Watching the Prince, the _Commander_, in the heat of battle was mesmerizing. He burned bright with his grace, leaving behind him a trail of light as he danced around to a mastered dance that only he knew. He burned _bright _and he burned _hot. _Everything he touched was left scorched by the heat he released; rocks, grass, skin, everything came away black and burnt.

He was like a ball of fire swirling around the bodies littered through the garden.

His expression was even, stoic, like it had been during the war. He fought with strength and power and skill.

She watched him twirl and slash and hack and move as fluidly as water through the rocks of a stream, from where she had hidden in the hollowed out tree. The attack had been a surprise, on their day of rest, but the attack on the Garden was even more so, it was where they sent the young ones when the gates were overthrown and the siege into the inner realm successful.

They had all converged on the Garden as soon as their enemy did and the young ones ran and hid away wherever they could manage. She heard a soft rustle from above, too soft to be a stealthy attacker, and she looked up at the nobs and breaks in the hallow trunk, climbing up as silently as she could. Breaking through the top, she carefully kept her head down, she spied the source of the soft rustle from the other branch.

Sasha was hugging himself close to the trunk, perched precariously on an overhanging branch, trying to stay as hidden as he could among the leaves and branches. But the limb he sat perched on was thin, it was dying, the tree ready to start over in its lifecycle, and she held a hand out to him frantically. He shook his head in fear, not wanting to leave his spot until the danger was passed, but he didn't have much of a choice in the matter should the branch snap from under him.

"Sasha!" she whispered urgently, "Take my hand! Come on! It's gonna snap!"

"I can't!" he called back just as urgently, "If I move it'll break!"

"If you don't move it's still going to break!"

"I'm too scared to move!"

"I know!" she reached out further, as much as she could without revealing herself, "I'm scared too but you have to move!"

He finally nodded, uncurling from his place on the branch, away from the thick trunk, and leaned forward to take her hand.

Then the branch snapped.

He fell.

Their hands met and locked.

And she was pulled over the edge.

Dangling from the broken limb of a tall oak tree was not what she had thought would be happening today. She was just going to play with her big brothers, listen to them tell stories, perhaps have to suffer through some attention being paid to her belly. Yet, here she was dangling half way out of a tree, over Michael's head, with Sasha hanging freely between them.

The Archangel looked up at them quickly, his eyes widening in shock, and turned back to the battle at hand. His eyes took on an orange hue, flames licking up his arms, and he clapped his hands together in front of him. A bright wave of flames swept through the gathering horde of demons, they screamed as they were burnt alive, stumbling over each other in their attempt to get away. He quickly turned back to them, lifting Sasha up from the bottom, enough that he could crawl up into the nook that his own little fledgling sat in hiding.

"Keep quiet."

They both nodded and disappeared within the hallow trunk, crawling back to the nob hole to watch from their safety, as the _Commander _burned his way through the hordes effortlessly, ensuring that none got a hairs inch too close to their hiding spot.

The battle raged on well into the night, until the hordes of demons finally stopped coming at them, they slowed to a stop, and with their end came the finish of the battle.

Michael took in the damage done to the Garden, nodding guiltily to the Gardener as he too took in the damage, but was waved away "It can be fixed." And it left him the time to walk over to the hallowed tree and kneel before the cracked opening.

"It's safe, now, you can come out."

The two of them crawled out from under the crack, both hugged him in thanks, before Sasha let him go to run into the arms of his own guardian. Akeelah hugged herself close as he lifted her from the ground.

"That was scary."

"It was."

"Thanks for saving us."

"Always."


	194. Crushed

They had always wondered what the young ones knew, that others most likely wouldn't, seeing as it was easier for them to travel around unseen during a war that was dangerous for any to wander without another at their back should the fight be brought to them. Fledglings and other young ones were more adept in sneaking around, being small and quiet, it was not surprising to know they had seen things that was thought to be private among the higher ranks.

Akeelah had let loose some of those unspoken secrets during the second visit to the Pavilion, it was still a new relationship, and often only came when she could hide behind the leg of their captain.

"Elijah lost that when he was taken to the prison."

They turned up at the sound of her voice, following her finger to the book laying on the table against the other wall, Abraxos frowned as he turned back to the fledgling.

"How do you know?"

"I saw Theo yank it from his hands and throw it into a puddle. Elijah was really sad. He'd been working on that for a while. I'm happy that someone saved it."

Nisroc led their new friend over to where they lay stretched out on the many ottomans that lay in front of the large windows overhanging the training field, it was their day off and they intended to use it to relax and lay about, for it was rare that they had them these days anymore. She curled up on their captains left side, legs folded up, her knee brushing against Titus's thigh.

"What more do you know Baby Power?"

The little choir angel looked up to the captain at his soft inquiry, to the nods of the others, interest peaked to know what was known that they didn't hold knowledge of. She looked down to her hands for a moment, tugging at her little robe, as if silently pondering if she should share what she knew to them or not. She knew a lot of things that she didn't think that they knew that she knew and didn't want them to stop being her friends if they found out that she did, she like having them as her friends. They were big and tough and strong but really nice and playful and friendly.

"I know you," she pointed at Titus, and he sat up slightly to listen closer, realizing that this admission was about him "You used to take fruit from the Garden and leave it laying about when no one was looking." He nodded, he had done that, the Garden was one of the places that stood guarded, the Commander had expected angels to try and sneak in, and they had caught quite a number who did. He would leave the fruits laying about unseen by the naked eye in the hope that someone had seen him do it and pick it up later.

She turned and pointed at Abraxos, and he leaned in closer too, "I know you were supposed to walk through the Axis and side paths looking for any who were out passed curfew, and how you used to take them away, you didn't like it." He shook his head, it was not something he was proud of, and to know that a fledgling had saw made it even more painful.

Puriel, who had been laying under her feet, went cross eyed at the little finger that pointed down at him, "You used to leave blankets laying about when it started to get cold." He nodded quietly, reaching up to rub at the little foot that hung over the edge of her seat, he was happy that someone saw what he had done.

Akeelah turned to look at the one opposite of her, and Haniel leaned forward silently to hear what she knew, "You stood outside the Infirmary waiting for others to come seek help and if they weren't a warrior or a healer you took them to the prison." He nodded, looking down in shame, he had done many regrettable things.

Nisroc raised an eyebrow when a little finger pointed in his face, "You let me go. You let all of us go. Even when we know you saw us." He nodded, of course he had, he was not going to take a fledgling or a young one to the prison despite whatever flock they fell under. He was a battle hardened soldier but he was not heartless.


	195. Flutter

"Stop!" they each turned from one another at the sharp cry, spinning in surprise at the sudden voice, their argument forgotten in the moment that they were caught "Just s_top!_" All four sets of eyes widened at the sight of the little fledgling standing just on the inside of their garden's gate, little eyes wide as she stared at them, tears making them sparkle in the light of the onset evening. "Stop _fighting_! Stop it! _Stop!_" There was no words they could say, "This is how it all s_tarted_! I _remember_! There was _so_ much yelling! No _more_!" Before any one of them could think about stepping forward, the fledgling turned, throwing the gate open, and bolted from their garden. The clashed against the catch, bouncing back open with the force enacted upon it, and some turned to look at them in surprise at the sudden turn.

"What…What were we even fighting _about_?" the Messenger asked the question they were all thinking, unable to tear his wide eyes away from the swaying gate, and none of his brothers answered as none of them even knew anymore. They followed at a sedated pace, closing the gate softly behind them when they exited, and eyes turned to watch them walk passed in surprise and shock. None had heard them argue since they'd returned. It was frightening to see, seeing on how it had started the downfall all that time ago, and it hurt to see it in their eyes as they passed.

Even if she didn't know it, they each know where she would go, where she always disappeared to when she got so upset.

Joshua regarded them with saddened, but harsh eyes, "You must learn that all things have consequences."

"We didn't know she was there."

"Little ones are usually in places they are not thought to be." He nodded in the direction they knew to look in "One must always be cautious when they are more then not around." They ducked under the Gardeners stern gaze, thanking softly as they passed for him granting them entrance "Just fix the damage you have caused. That little fledgling has seen more than she tells anyone. Even me." He held up a ripe peach for the Healer to take "And I always provide her favorite treat." His old guardian smiled at him as he took the peach from his grasp, curling his fingers around it, stepping onto the path that led to their clearing.

There she sat, her back to them, folded up on herself. Her shoulders shook with the force of her cries, fingers digging into her robe tightly, face buried in her knees. They exchanged careful looks and stepped further into the clearing.

Lucifer stepped on a small twig and it snapped.

"Go _away."_

"I can't."

She shot a watery glare at him from over her shoulder and turned back around again.

"We are so sorry, little one."

Michael sat a few paces behind her, folding his legs in the grass, and leaned forward on his elbows. The others followed after her, sitting at his shoulders, around in a half circle. She ignored them for the first few moments, possibly fifteen minutes, until her cries silenced and she rubbed at her face with the back of her little hands.

"Why did you have to _fight_?"

"Because we are dummies." The others turned to send a glare to the Messenger at his confession, and she spied it from over her shoulder, a soft wet giggle floated around them. "Big dumb dummies."

"Yea, you are."

While they were not on board with being called _'__big dumb dummies' _they would take any name if it meant she talked to them again. Slowly, the time passing by as the sun started to set, casting an orange hue over the sky, the fledgling turned to look at them.

"Don't do it again." She wiped at her eyes again, "When you guys fight bad stuff happens and then you all go away and I don't wanna lose you."

Lucifer sighed deeply, reaching a hand out for her, which she stared at for a moment before crawling up to take. She allowed him to guide her forward, crawling on her knees, and to be pulled into his lap.

"I can't promise we won't fight ever again." He curled his arms around her tightly, "We're brothers. Brothers do that." He looked up to see the others nod to his statement, "But we will never go away, not again, it's a sad history that we have. But we learn from our pasts. And it is not one we will relive."

It seemed to appease her, even she and Zaves had arguments, but they always made up in the end. She rubbed her face into the folds of his robes and nodded, curling in close, looking up when the Healer held out a ripened fruit.

"Peach?"


	196. Sink

Akeelah watched in horror as the ice cracked, with a loud resounding boom, and her friend fell backwards. Zaveriel's eyes went wide as he slipped, the demons at the edge of the frozen lake hooting and hollering in glee, and he crashed hard against the cracked ice. It snapped under his sudden weight, breaking apart, and he fell through. Freezing water splashed up around him, soaking her pants and shoes, and she edged closer to the crevice calling for her friend to come back, tears stung against the cold, and she looked quickly through the dark churning waves for any sign of him. The water on the frozen surface made the ice slick and she too slipped, her feet flying out from under her, tumbling over the edge of the dark hole her friend had fallen through, her head slamming against the hard ice as she fell forward, and unconsciousness took her quickly.

The shock of the cold brought her back though, partially, and she could only watch as the moon above seemed to shrink smaller and smaller, the light fading quicker and quicker.

Faintly, she felt herself bump into something, as she continued to sink towards the bottom of the lake. Her and whatever she had bumped into, they shook lightly, sluggishly under water, as they hit the bottom. Her lungs began to protest, she could hold her breath for far longer then a human could, but not as long as a grown angel could, and they burned with a fire unseen even in the frigid depths of the lake. Finally, she could take it no longer, and she opened her mouth. Water rushed in where air should be and she felt herself slowly losing the fight to stay awake again, and so the fledgling succumbed to her fate, and her eyes slid shut.

Again, she came too as she was slowly pushed upwards, the moon getting bigger and bigger, the light brighter and brighter, until she was pushed up over the edge of the broken hole in the ice, and she fell with a wet smack on the cold surface. Too weak to move, she laid there, in her heap, and felt water slowly trickle from the corner of her mouth. There was a lot of splashing, but she couldn't get herself to move to see what it was, and there was voices coming from the side of the lake.

The demons were still there.

But she was too cold and too tired to care.

Her eyes fluttered again, and her gaze fell to stare at her pale hands laying against the smooth surface of the frozen lake, blinking sluggishly, she let the darkness take hold again when something fell over top of her.

The fledgling was swallowed by the darkness much longer this time, and when she did start to come around again, she was pressed against something squishy, firm, and warm. Something was rubbing over her forehead and ears, the back of her neck, and her fingers. Her eyes blinked sluggishly awake and she stared straight ahead for a moment in confusion.

There was the familiar emerald robes of the Healer, leaning back in a chair, reading from a novel.

Strewn about were various persons, sleeping in reclined and bent over positions, she gave a soft sound, a quiet mew, but it was enough to garner the attention of the archangel sitting next to her in his chair. His head shot up, eyes wide in alarm at the sound, and they met the wide gaze of the terrified fledgling. The book was forgotten as the elder stood from his chair with quick haste, coming to sit on the edge of the bed she lay on, and he brushed his long warm fingers over her temple.

"You're awake?"

Akeelah nodded, watching him feel her temple for her temperature, and gave a soft sound of inquiry. He nodded in acknowledgement and pulled the blanket up further around her, the arms curled around her lower back tightened, and a chin pressed into her braids.

"You were found nearly dead on the top of a frozen lake. You were unconscious when you arrived and have been for nearly two days." He gestured to who ever she was laying on, "Nisroc has been laying with you since then."

She nodded again, eyes drooping once more, and he brushed his thumb over her cheek, "Sleep now. We will talk more when you wake again."


	197. Ambush

**AN: I most certainly do Guest Reviewer! Hope you like it!**

It was only after suffering through so many playful attacks to her person, that she devised the sneaky plan to get back at those who thought to torture her as they did, Akeelah was nothing if not spiteful after all. She bid her time, watching and listening, they all gave away their weakness at some point, taking in her unintentional pointers as they were given to her in the silence of someone who knew how to play their cards the right way.

It was only right that the first one on her list of revenge be the one who had initially started it for the most of them, and she stayed in tune with him for nearly a week, agreeing to visit the Garden with him rather quickly when the offer was given.

If he noticed anything strange about the quick acceptance, he made no mention of it, and nodded in approval at the fledgling. It had been a busy few weeks, what with training and battles and taking on a new charge, it had been some time since he'd gotten to spend quality time alone with his little fledgling friend.

Akeelah skipped along the Axis, her direction in that of the Garden, humming to herself as the plan slowly fell into place. She hopped up the stone steps, swinging her hands back and forth with every one, and jumped to a stand still at the top.

Waving happily to the Gardener, the fledgling walked down the dirt path, between the trees, to the clearing on the other side where they had first met all that time ago and smiled to herself as she spotted him.

He had his back to her, leaning back on his arms, head tilted up to the warmth of the sun. He didn't hear her coming, her footsteps deliberately as silent as she could make them, as she tiptoed up behind him. She smiled to herself, kneeling behind him, not disturbing his silent rest in the slightest. She grinned slyly and reached up with a little finger, managed to stealthily not rub against his arm, and poked her finger into that one spot over his highest left rib.

The mighty Power jumped in surprise, yelping loudly, and leaned forward with a quickness that was unseen. His arms wrapped around his middle as he turned to see what had poked him in that precise spot, spotting the fledgling cracking up behind him came as a surprise, but his eyes quickly narrowed.

"You little…Is this why you agreed to come with me so quickly?"

She nodded, reaching her hand out again, perhaps for another poke in the place that had garnered such a response. He was more aware this time though, and snatched her wrist up in quick succession, causing her to yelp this time around, and he pulled her around into his lap.

"No! Nis! No!"

"You thought you could sneak attack me?"

She curled in on herself when she realized that she would not be able to squirm out of this swiftly served retribution, giggling already, when he leaned forward, free hand cradling the back of her head, and set her down under him. He leaned over her from above, resting on his elbows and he smiled down at the fledgling.

"One does not just try to attack me and get away with it."

"It wasn't an attack!"

He smiled brightly, "Oh?" and leaned forward in playful wonder, "And what was it then?"

"It was a poke."

"Really now?", he pulled on his hands out from under his chin, raising a single finger for her to see, smiled at the giggles, and poked it into her chubby little belly, "And what was that?"

"Nihihis! Nohoho!"

He poked at the left side of her tummy button and she yelped brightly "What was it?"

"Tihihihickles!"

The Power chuckled, "No, you little sneaky thing you, it's just a _poke."_

He moved his other hand out from under his chin and curled his fingers around her little wrist, pulling her arm up over her head, and poked his finger into the smooth undersurface, and she giggled brightly, a bubbly sound and it lightened his heart.

She tugged at her arm and tried to curl up, "Nihihis!"

"I'm going to _poke _here a bit."

The fledgling shook her head quickly, her smile a contagious one, and Nisroc didn't try to stop from returning it.

"What?" he tilted his head, poking his finger into the little underarm, and gave it a small wiggle, chuckling softly as she shrieked and jumped slightly "You don't _like _being poked? But you poked me, I thought you would like it if I poked you too?"

"Nihihis! Tihihickles!"

"We've been over this, my little sneaky friend, I'm simply _poking _you."

Nisroc let her wrist go, her arm coming down immediately, and instead moved on to poke at her belly. She wiggled and laughed brightly, her fingers curling around his in an attempt to stop him, it did nothing of the sort and he continued his poking spree of her little belly undisturbed.

"Let this be a lesson to you should you ever try and _poke _me again."


	198. Break

The knock on their door in the middle of the night had the four of them turning from their places at the table in confusion as to who would be out of bed at this hour, and what they would be out and about for at this hour.

Little Akeelah happily scooted over at the beckoning of her master, watching him stand from his chair to see to whomever was at the door, and turned to look at the Messenger when he straightened up at the voice that responded to the Morningstar at the door. It took a moment for her to place it herself and when she did, she gave a soft snort of laughter, and turned to take the mug from the distracted Healer's hands.

Zaveriel followed after him, as he led him back in, holding his arm at an awkward angle, tightly against his chest. He hears his friends laughter and glares at his friend where she sits at the Healers side.

"Zaves." The Messenger sounds so tired as he calls him out and rubs at the bridge of his nose, "What did you do this time?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Try me."

Zaves grinned, "I jumped from the top of the Aerie."

His master looked up at him quickly, the Healer groaning softly into his hands, and Akeelah laughed again.

"Why would you _do _that?"

"Because Akeelah dared me to."


	199. Chaos

It started out small, the signs, little mishaps here and there, and then it escalated; an oil spill in the Gulf, a wildfire in California, an epidemic in Africa. Things that got peoples attention, things that caused disorder among the peace, and it was soon enough causing disorder in more than just the human world.

The Healer had been worried when he had been notified of the attack on the ancient world, the plagues, all of them, being hailed down upon the people with the same fury that they had been all that time ago. He'd set off immediately to see it for himself, no believing that someone would enact them again on a people who had grown to live in peace with them, and when he arrived, he was greeted with the sight of the people physically overtaken at the red that glistened in their beloved river Nile. He dipped his hand in, pulling back some of the mysterious liquid, rubbing it between his fingers.

Blood.

_Water turned to blood. _

The turmoil created by the event took days to calm again. The ancient people of the ancient world were in a frenzy, thinking it was Heaven against them again, planning on rallying their own warriors in retaliation for the plagues. The Archangel had been able to dispel them as quickly as they had appeared, aiding the rulers in calming their people once more, and turned to his godling charge for further information.

Nothing much was shared; a girl in modern clothing, about 5 feet tall, hair dyed a shocking blue. Nothing that could discern a culprit, and sadly, he had to leave with more questions that he desired answers for.

Things only escalated from there.

The Prince had been frustrated at the war that had broken out between the two factions; both night crawlers warring over territory, vampires fighting werewolves despite the treaty that had been made thousands of years previous. Him and his Powers went to dispel the fighting between them of course, ending the fighting before it could spill out into the human world more then it already had.

After interrogating the two faction leaders, peacefully of course, he had left with about as many answers as his younger brother had after the plagues were cast upon the ancient city of Egypt.

It wasn't until they were called by their Father to aid the Winchesters and their friend (read:pet) seraph in the turmoil arising into the human world, that they finally got their answers. It came from the most unlikely of places, something that would be laughed about later, and they each turned to look at each other in acknowledgement when it happened.

All Sam had said was; "This is utter _Chaos._"

Michael turned in quick succession to his Powers, the three of them stood at attention at once, and he gave them the direct order to search the culprit out. Leave no stone unturned, check every dark nook and cranny, not to return without them in control. Nisroc saluted, pressing his fist to the opposite shoulder, and he disappeared with his two soldiers in tow.

The Messenger turned in time to his own Lieutenant, Zaveriel stood at attention in his own way, looking up from where he'd been staring down at his boot and raising his chin to signify that attention was had by him.

"You." Gabriel ignored him when he returned with a quip of _'__Me.' _And shook his head firmly "You seemingly know nearly everyone. Have you heard from Valora recently?" his eyes widened when his young second in command nodded calmly, "Yep." And he took a step closer when it appeared that he wasn't going to say much more without prompting "Well, when?"

Zaveriel shrugged, "A couple weeks ago. She stopped in to say 'hello' and took off again. Was sporting some new hair too, blue, I think, I'm gonna give it a shot. Always wanted orange hair." Gabriel waved that nonsense away, but the Healer looked up in surprise, stepping up on the young messenger's other side "Blue hair, you say?"

"Yep. It was pretty bitchin."

"And you didn't think to say anything!" The Messenger was a mixture of exasperated and aggravated, throwing his hands up in the air, this turn of events made his young messenger flinch, but he stayed where he was leaning against the side of the table lazily, "You, who heard us talking about this for weeks, didn't think to say anything about meeting with Valora!"

"Nope. Didn't even cross my mind." He had the air about him of someone who couldn't give any cares about what had been done.

Sam stepped forward, having grown tired of having similar questions unanswered, interrupting the raging archangel (a very dangerous thing to do, mind you) with a slightly raised hand, "Excuse me?", he resisted the urge to shiver when four sets of very powerful eyes turned to look at him "But who is _'__Valora'_?"

Lucifer nodded in understanding, where he stood to the side of the oldest archangel, bouncing his fledgling on his arm as he watched the events unfolding around him. Honestly, he wasn't as surprised as the others seemed to be that the young messenger had seen their younger sister and kept it to himself, he was a big believer in 'Karma'.

And could think to give only one answer, "Chaos, herself."

…

They had captured the young angel rather easily, some might even say it was too easy, she had been waiting for the Powers to catch up after their short chase with wrists held out for the cuffs that the Captain carried for prisoners.

She smiled at him as he secured them in place, easily ignoring the hurt that shone in his eyes, much like the young messenger, Nisroc knew many.

"I thought you were dead?"

_"__Honey, I rose up from the dead, I do it all the time. I've got a list of names and yours is in red, underlined. I check it once, then I check it twice!"_

He sighed at the response, he knew she was quoting something, but didn't know what. He took hold of her shackles and turned to his men, nodding in ascent, and they disappeared in a small whoosh of wind.

…

They weren't sure how they all liked the look she was giving the Messenger, even after hours of failed attempts to get her to talk to them. There was no trickier angel then Valora. Karma was a bitch sometimes and Chaos reigned even when it seemed like it didn't.

She smiled "I'll tell you what you're _going_ to do." She continued her stare at the Messenger "You're going to let me _go _and I'll be like a good little _angel _and leave things be. For a while, at least."

Gabriel met her stare with one of his own, she smiled, as he took her bate "Why _would _we let you go?"

"Because I'm cashing in."

He's eyes took on a confused light "What?"

She stood from where she sat in the turned around chair, the two front legs crashing to the floor with a loud noise, from where she had previously been leaning back on the back two against the table behind her.

"I'm cashing in, Gabe, you owe me."

"I owe you squat."

She held her hands up, both, as they were still cuffed together, and she raised single finger, her eyes going wide in a mocking manner, "Oh, but you do, you really r_eally _do.", she reached forward to poke him in the chest "You see, it was me. I did it. It was me. I freed you. _I'm_ the one who nudged that stupid little _monkey _in your direction. I'm the one who _planted _the thought in his mind to save the _pathetic, cowering _archangel out from under that uppity Prince of Hell's thumb, who used you as his own personal buffet table when ever he pleased. It was me. I did it. Now you owe me a debt and I'm cashing in. So you're going to do exactly as I say and _let _me _go."_


	200. Damage

He could have never imaged the amount of damage he would have caused when he slipped out of the Aerie in the middle of the night, and didn't return the next day, leaving his lieutenant whom he had promised with all his grace to never put him back in the same situation he had placed him in once before to stumble out of the empty office as though he'd just been struck across the face. He would not see him shake his head, waving away those thoughts, unknowing of how true they had been, and convince himself that he would be back by morning, that he had merely had a mission to complete and had left to do so early in the day.

But he wasn't back the next morning, nor the one after, or the one after that.

And the Healer was the one who watched from the shadows, unseen in his silent standing as sentry for his old ward, when he finally broke completely. It had been him who the others had come to after the scream that echoed so loudly that it touched those walking passed the quieted Aerie, and it was him who had left his Infirmary in the hands of his Virtues, the only one following being his Captain, running down the stairs and across the Axis to the Aerie next door. It had been him, breathing heavy from such a sprint, to witness the damage such a loving angel could cause when pushed to the limit, as he watched him tear apart his brothers abandoned office with a rage he had not thought him capable of. It was the Healer who rushed forward when the young messenger finally seemed to come to the end of his burning rage, falling to his knees in the middle of the destroyed office, as sobs started tearing from his person as though someone was snatching the breath from his very person with a force unseen.

It would be Michael and Nisroc who would arrive next, having seen the rush as the Healer cut through those milling about the Axis to get to the Aerie in such a frantic hurry. Swords drawn and ready to fend off any who would dare to step foot into their Aerie without contest, to come to a stop outside the door, coming to a stand still behind the kneeling form of Oren, as they watched the Healer tentatively encircle his arms around the sobbing messenger.

Soon after, having been alerted of the scream from the Aerie, the Morningstar and his young charge would come up behind the two warriors. The blonde would whisper his inquiry to the raven, who would nod firmly, once, in answer. The little fledgling would squirm to be set down, and set her down he would, lest she push herself from his arms instead, and they'd all watch her from the doorway as she stepped carefully over broken pieces of glass and splintered pieces of wood into the ruined office. It was them who watched their young friend manage to get herself between the Healer and her friend, and hug him as tightly as she could, it would be them to see the damage caused by the Messenger.

But not he, himself.

He was too far away by that point.

They would stay there long into the night until the messenger finally sobbed himself into unconsciousness.

It would be a week before they caught sight of him again, through the soft call of their Father in an order to aid His humans friends in this 'hunt' they found themselves, and the fledgling tagging along didn't blame her friend when he took one look at the missing piece and left without word.

Honestly, she was of the opinion, in her soft raging way, that nobody should have been as surprised as they were that he did this. Again. Once an abandon-er, always an abandon-er.

The Messenger tried to smile at them in greeting, a tentative half smile, and quickly averted his gaze at the harsh stares he received from the attempt.

Akeelah, never one to keep her opinion to herself, took hold of her masters hand and leaned forward with it in her grasp as she trusted him to keep her from falling over "You know what's worse then abandoning those who you swore to never leave alone over anything?" she looked straight at the Messenger "Doing it twice." And from there, she let the shade fall over him unashamedly.

…

The fledgling pointed at the picture the hunter had shown them, from the safety of her masters side, leaning heavily on the older archangels shoulder from where he had positioned himself to sit in front of her.

"Gabe! He's like you! He abandoned his family too!"

Sam turned to look at the Messenger silently, as the fledgling continued pointing at the picture of the CEO who had vanished through the night that week ago when they took note of the beast in the area wreaking havoc, staring at the Messenger has he bowed his head in shame.

…

They found the CEO the following Friday, after the search done by the Powers and the Grigori, and were able to pin him at a small cottage in the Rockies, safe and sound despite the trail of blood that had led them to him. They had watched him for some time, ensuring that none else knew of his location, before returning with their news.

Nisroc turned to look at his little friend when the fledgling grabbed onto the leg of his human jeans and leaned forward, staring quizzically at the Messenger, her little head tilted to the side, "He ran 'cause he was gonna be hurt, Nis?"

He set a hand on her head, "Indeed."

And she gave a soft nod under his hand, gaze never straying from the Messenger, "So what was your excuse then?" and he turned, breaking the stare he had with her, and bit his lip in silence.

…

"How long do you think it took for him to disappear like that?"

Dean Winchester looked to his brother in question, as they all bent over a map of the city they were currently in, and the younger of the two of them shrugged, "It's hard to say really."

Beside him, with her head laying on her crossed arms, Akeelah shook her head in the negative "No it's not." She turned her head to the side to look at the Messenger "Gabe, how long did it take you to run away?"

…

The room fell silent when the little girl held her hand up and he stopped midsentence, she turned to look up at him dully, and the Messenger blinked in surprise at the first glance that was something other than a glare of heat "Sorry. I have a strict policy about not talking to cowards."

"Akeelah, I made a mistake!"

She turned completely, her grip on the Morningstar's pants dropping completely, and the Messenger blinked in surprise at the most attention he'd gotten from her in the three weeks they'd been together.

"No, you didn't make a mistake. Making a mistake is taking Zaves fox pup he has hidden in his room. No. What you did was break his heart."


	201. Exhaustion

She turned over on her belly, rolling over on his chest, and rested her chin on her crossed hands. Brilliant blue eyes peered up at her from underneath, sparkling fondly, and a smile graced his features.

"We really should get back from midday rest, Baby Power."

They had retreated to the quiet of the Garden during the rest of midday, and had fallen into a comfortable silence in the warm patch of sun they had found among the soft grass, even fell into a light slumber to the lullaby of the birds above them.

"Do we have to, Nis?"

"I have a duty to."

She pouted, "But you have a duty to protect the fledglings too."

The Power raised an eyebrow at her, tilting his head to the side in confusion, and she poked him in the chest lightly with her lower hand crossed under her chin still.

"I do have such a duty, yes?"

"And what if I have a bad dream?", she looked up at him with wide eyes, "When I finish out the rest of my nap all alone on the hard, _hard _ground?"

"I see," he smiled at her, raising one of his arms from over her lower back, and brushed a finger down the bridge of her nose fondly, "You only want me to stay so you can continue to use me as your resting mat."

"And to protect me, Nis, _and _to protect me."

"From the bad dreams?"

She nodded and he smiled at her gently, nodding slowly as he came to a mock understanding, "I see. You would chose me to stand as your protector from these dreams that would dare cause you fear?"

"Like my own knight."

Nisroc nodded, "Alright, and if my Commander comes looking for me?"

"I will tell him you are diligently doing your duty in protecting little me from the fearsome dreams."

He kissed her nose, rubbing his hand down the back of her head, "Take your nap, Baby Power, I will _protect _you from your bad dreams."

"Love you, Nis."

"And I, you."


	202. Fever

He dabbed at her slick temple with a cool cloth for what was probably the tenth time in the same twenty minutes, not wanting her to suffer anymore heat than she already was, frowning when she mumbled listlessly in her sleep. He was no Healer, and with his older brother out tending to the rest of the fledglings in the Garden, he was the one left to take care of their own unwell little one.

The fledgling had started shivering some few minutes ago, and he was growing increasingly worried when it didn't seem as though it was going to stop any time soon, and he curled the blanket on the Morningstar's bed around her small shivering frame a bit more snuggly.

She grimaced in her half asleep state and fought him on it weakly "No Gabe. Hot. Hot."

"I know, little nugget, I know you are." He grabbed the little hand that reached out to push at the blankets, and pressed a kiss into her palm, "Just be brave for me."

Little Akeelah was pretty grown for her age, undoubtedly from what she had been forced to live through while growing through most of those formative years, but one of the endearing qualities of when she fell ill with human illnesses was how she seemed to regress to her natural age. She wants lots of cuddles, attention, belly rubs, to be held everywhere and anywhere, and never ever wanted to be alone. It was one of the true times they got to treat her like the fledgling she was, not that they didn't every other day, but it was one of the few times that she actually allowed it without some form of protest.

Her little eyes cracked open, dulled from fever raging through her, and he felt his heart drop at the little tears that gathered in her blue eyes, "Gabe, hurts."

"What hurts, little one?"

The Messenger leaned forward, stroking her cheeks with the cool cloth, feeling her warm forehead with the back of his hand tenderly. She sniffled and reached for his hand with her free one, the other still curled in his fingers, and he happily obliged her and curled his fingers around that one too, pressing a kiss to that little palm in similar fashion.

"Ever'thin' Gabe. Hurts."

"Oh, little one." He pulled the blanket he had just curled around her away and lifted her up into his arms. Little Akeelah curled around him miserably, her legs wrapping around his waist and her little arms around his neck as a warm little temple pressed into his shoulder. "I wish I could make you feel better again." He rubbed at her back and stood, swaying to an unheard tune, trying to sooth her upset away. Gabriel kissed the side of her warm little heard, pressing his nose to the soft braids, "Do you wanna go take a cool bath?"

The fledgling seemed to think on it, taking a moment, before nodding miserably into the crook of his neck. Her wish being his command, the Messenger rocked his arms with her in them, as he stepped out of his brother's room and down the hall to the washroom. She sniffled softly in his ear, a little tear dropping onto his shoulder as he stepped further into the cool room, toes curling over the warm stone under him.

Sitting them on a stone bench, he gingerly pulled his brothers tunic up over her heated little body, until she was in nothing but her undergarment, and he pulled his tunic up over his own head in quick succession.

The Messenger sat them in the shallows, where the water could roll gently into her chubby little belly, leaning the sickly little fledgling back against his chest. She sighed in relief, the water being just right, as it always was, and he cupped a few handfuls up to pour over her head. Letting the cool water drip down her braids and over her face, over her shoulders, and he did this a few times before curling his wet hand around her warm forehead. Akeelah's little hands rested under the water, on his knees, and she sighed softly against him.

"Is this better?" she nodded to his question.

They sat there for some time, not seeing the sun setting over them from within the cavern they sat in, and he hummed absently under his breath before a hand settled on his head, tilting it back to meet the concerned gaze of the Healer as he stood over them.

"How is she faring?" he let go of his head and knelt beside him instead, reaching to feel her forehead with his hand, frowning at the heat that hit his hand when he did, "Did she sleep at all?"

"Most of the day actually. How are the others doing?"

"Resting. They should be good as new in a few days. Has she eaten anything?"

Gabriel shook his head, "She says everything looks 'yucky' right now. Even peaches. Trust me when I say I truly tried."

"We'll have to see if we can get some broth into her when she wakes again." He stroked a few fingers over her temple, brushing one down the bridge of her nose, smiling when she sighed in her sleep at the soft touches, "I will get you both a towel." And stood to do as he said.

The Messenger passed his precious passenger up to his brother when he beckoned him to, watching for a moment as he straightened her and brought her in close to him, adjusting his grip as she curled around him. He stood from the water then, drying himself as best he could with soaked trousers, and his brother nodded towards the bench they had taken previously.

"I saw you in here a bit ago and got you new trousers before I came in."

He thanked his brother as he stepped passed to change. The Healer nodded in kind to his thanks and stepped out of the washroom, heading back for his older brothers room, when the fledgling stirred against his shoulder, "Hiya….Rapha….."

"Hello, little bear, how are you?"

"Cold. Big brother."

He carefully slipped one of his brothers clean tunics over her head, guiding her arms through the sleeves, and sat on the edge of the bed as he reached for a blanket to wrap around her. She sighed at the warmth it gave and cuddled closer to him.

"Better?"

"Mhm…Story?"

Raphael smiled, turning to lean against the headboard, looking up as his little brother sat at the end of the bed with them.

"Yes, I'll tell you a story."


	203. Gunshot

"I did something stupid." From the voice that spoke such a thing brought him to rolling his eyes, it was done so with fondness, but Oren, who had been standing before him, still laughed at his expression and the Healer looked upwards as though there was something up there to give him the needed strength to deal with this ones shenanigans, "What did you do Zaveriel?"

And he turned. His eyes went wide at the blood seeping through the fingers pressing to his left side, and he rushed forward immediately, "How did this happen?"

"I was shot?"

He looked up to meet his eyes, "Is that a question or an answer?"

"Both?"

"Explain." He applied pressure to the wound and guided him by the shoulder to an empty bed "At once."

Zaves grimaced at the pressure, hissing in pain, and resisted the urge to squirm away lest he be smacked over the head even in his wounded state. Raphael just loved him that much that he would.

"Well he said he'd do it if I didn't stop making monkey jokes about him."

"Who?"

"The hunter? The older one, whatshisname, they honestly all look the same to me."

Raphael looked up at him again, "Short or tall?"

"Short."

He yelped as he was smacked over the head, "Why would you antagonize him, you little idiot."

"Because it's fun to! Anyway, yea, then I said he didn't have the balls to with Gabe there with me."

"And where is the Messenger now?"

"Only I came back. He stayed. Said they were going to have a quick little _chat_."

The Healer pulled the cloth away to look at the damage done, sighing at the extent, or lack thereof, and dipped another cloth in nearby basin of water to clean away the blood blocking his complete visual of what he was working with. He gazed over it with a well trained eye and hummed.

"It cleanly in. It didn't go through, thank Father, and it won't do any lasting damage, thank Father again, but I'm going to have to remove it."

They didn't necessarily have the tools appropriate for the job, seeing at the firearm was not a weapon they used themselves, they really had no need of them, but he had a pair of forceps and reached for those.

He met his old wards gaze ones more "I won't lie to you, Zaves, this is going to be painful."

"Do it. I can take it." He clenched his eyes shut tightly "I'm a man!"

"You are _not _a _man_."

"I'm a man _child_."

He smiled, "There's something we agree on." He braced him up on his good side with his free hand, poising the forceps over the bullet wound entrance "Ready?" a hand curled around his bracing him and he gained a nod of consent. It pained him to hear the hiss of pain, the gasp that followed, and then the soft groan, when he dug the forceps into the hole. His fingers curled over those clutching at his and he twisted around slightly, tightening his grip around those small fingers when he whined softly in pain, after what seemed like a lifetime he managed to grip the bullet and pull it out cleanly.

Once removed, he reached for a small jar on the counter behind him, yellow in color that held a scent of cinnamon and clove. He undid the cap and dripped a few drops of it into the hole, patting the young messengers thigh when he hissed softly, "The hard part is passed now, we only have to bandage it."

The Healer washed away the fresh blood that came with pulling the bullet out, and pressed a strip of gauze over the wound, followed by a thicker piece of cloth, and stuck it down with some medical adhesive.

Zaveriel sat up, grimacing in discomfort, raising his arms to allow his old guardian to wrap a bandage all the way around his chest before he pinned it off and pulled his tunic back down.

"Better?"

"Good as new."

He chuckled at the youngers' resilience, raising an arm as the messenger stood from where he sit on the bed, "Give me a hug, my little fool."

Zaves smiled and stepped into his embrace, curling his arms around the Healer in turn, swaying with him side to side. The ache subsiding at the comforting feeling of having the strong arms curl around him and pull him close into soft emerald robes.

"I haven't been _yours _for a long while."

"You will be _mine_ for always. No matter where you go."


	204. Head Trip

He knew that the fever had hit its peak when the fledgling woke in the middle of the night, eyes fluttering open, dulled from the fever and she looked about the room with wide eyes before they slowly settled on him in his chair at her side. He set his book down gently, looking up to her as their eyes settled on each other, and she laid there as still as was possible.

_"__Luci?"_

He nodded, setting the book aside on the table next to him, and leaned forward to rub a finger over her nose tenderly, "I'm here, little one."

"You're here?"

The Morningstar frowned lightly, "There is no other place that I'd be, then right here."

"But you….you were kicked out…Michael…he broke your wings…..and…..and he chained you…..and….and pushed you into the darkness….we watched it." His little fledgling sat up in bed as much as she could "Did he….Did he let you come…come back 'cause….'cause I'm sick?"

Lucifer realized what was wrong almost immediately, she was over come by her fever in its height and had fallen into a memory that had already come to pass. Still stuck in a time that had long since left them.

"Yes. He let me come back because you were very sick."

She smiled a dazed smile, reaching her hands out for him, and he was more than ready to oblige her request, lifting her out of the blankets and into his arms instead. She curled around him tightly, burrowing in as though he would leave her if he did not, and he feared that part of the little fledgling believed it. So he let her cling as tightly as she needed, swaying his hips slightly, while he rubbed at her back soothingly.

Akeelah pressed her warm forehead against his neck, speaking into the cool skin softly "I missed…..missed you so…..so much Luci…please….please don't leave…..leave again."

"I promise I won't. Michael let me come back to stay. I'm not leaving again."

He turned at the soft tap on the doorframe, meeting his older brothers eyes over the fledglings damp curls, giving him a look in an attempt to relieve the pain he could see in his eyes, but it would be something his brother would keep to himself for a long time to come.

"He's so cold….cold now Luci…It's _scary_."

The Morningstar tried to convey with his eyes just how untrue her words were, but even he knew, that there had been a time where his brother had thrived in those subzero temperatures with him, he had allowed himself to grow so cold to the world around him. Michael had changed the most out of them all and they couldn't expect the ones who had witnessed it to let it go. Not completely.

"I know, little one, but he's warmer now."

"I miss..him being…warm."

He watched as his brothers world came crashing around him, the heartbreak in his eyes cutting him just as deeply as the fever induced ramblings cut into him. Lucifer stared at his heartbroken brother, trying to think of what he could do to help them both, and then it came to him.

"But you still love him, right, little one."

"Always….love him."

She woke the next morning, sticky from sweat, and still warm from the broken fever, cuddled in between two bodies. The fledgling sat up slowly, rubbing at her cheek lightly, to look between the two sleeping archangels. She wasn't sure when the oldest one had gotten there, but she was happy he had come, and she smiled as she cuddled back down into his side.


	205. Infection

Gabriel felt himself flinch as he stepped into the Infirmary and his older brothers gaze immediately fell upon him, there was few who couldn't enter without the eye of the Healer catching them as they did, and he shuffled, looking to the side as he pushed his hand further in his robe, perhaps if he didn't seem suspicious then his brother would stay where he was with his new class, and he could get someone else to tend to him and be on his merry way before his older brother could even catch on.

"I do hope for your own welfare, that you intended to show me what brought you here." He had never been able to hide a wound from his older brother and he should have known that nothing would have changed even after all this time, the Healer had the eyes of a hawk when it came to spotting injuries, even for the ones that some were foolish enough to hide from him. He tried to smile up to the older archangel, but his brother was not pleased with him, thus the gesture was not returned and he merely held a hand out for him "Let me see the damage."

Despite his inner voice telling him not to, the Messenger knew when he was already playing on thin ice, especially when it came to one of his three older brothers, and he ignored that little voice as he pulled his hand out of his robe. Raphael took in quickly, in gentle fashion, pressing his fingers here and there, humming under his breath, and turned to look up at him with raised eyebrows.

"How long ago did this happen?", he indicated the color it gave "It's infected. This is not fresh." Gabriel licked his lips, trying to think of something to say as to appease his older brother, and not make a scene of it in front of his new training class, and he had only looked aside for a moment when a hand snagged him under his chin, turning him back around to look into his brothers bright blue eyes "Don't you _dare _even think about lying to me." And he swallowed harshly.

With the eyes of the class on him, not wanting to turn this any more south then it had already gone, he felt his face heat up with embarrassment as he stammered out his response "A—A A few weeks—weeks ago?"

"Is that a question or a statement, _baby brother_?"

"It's a statement, big brother."

It was a quick succumbing to his fate, and he lowered his head, averted his eyes, when his older brother took a quick inhale of breath. He follows as he's turned and lead to an empty bed, flinching when his brother calls out for his necessary items in a rough, stern, tone. All the healers, those working and those in the new class, flinch at the Healer's tone. No one wants to be responsible for upsetting the calm Healer. It's not a chance any want to dare take. If only to avoid that _look _of disappointment, he would give you, such as the one that the Messenger was attempting to avoid with all his might, he would break his visage at the mere sight of it. He always had. And that's not something he wants to do in front of a training class, he was a big bad archangel and would be seen as one until the end of time.

A healer rushed over with the things his brother requested, and he rubbed over the young one's head in thanks, and to give him to impression that it was not him the Healer was angered with. He smiled shyly, bowing to the mighty archangel, and turned to rush back to what he had been doing.

Raphael watched him return to mopping the other end of the hall and shook his head fondly, Constantine would learn this lesson, for a short while at least.

He turned back to the Messenger and pulled his hand closer, mindful of the injury, but none too gently. To portray his feeling on the matter at hand.

"Gabriel."

The tone was hard, but soft, and he begrudgingly looked up. This particular older brother was the only one he knew that could break even a mighty archangel with a mere _look, _a simple _expression_, and he felt his visage breaking at the mere breath of taking it in.

"Rapha….I'm sorry….I know I shouldn't have hidden it from you…..Please don't be mad…..I'm sorry." His brother only sighed, as his face heated up again from the whispering of the class behind him, and he turned to look up over the Messenger's shoulder "Go shadow one of the elders." They dispersed immediately and he was able to turn his attention back to his younger brother, Gabriel swallowed at the full attention he was given as his hand was disinfected and bound in gentle fashion "What do I do to those who try and hide injuries from me?"

The Messenger swallowed and shook his head, but his older brother was relentless, and gave him another look, that look that meant _'you will answer my question with much haste'_ and he mumbled under his breath the response.

"Speak up. Clearly. No mumbling."

"You…have them find….find a switch."

"Do you think you're treatment will be any different simply because of your status?"

The Messenger shook his head silently, preparing himself for the command. It wouldn't be the first time he's felt the Healers displeasure at such an avoidable action, and it probably, regrettably, wouldn't be the last time.

He hated it when one of his brothers became angry at him, they were all hardhanded, and weren't afraid to bring him down those few pegs if the need came to arise for such correction. It made him feel like he was a fledgling again, and after all that he himself had lived through because of their infighting, part of him wanted to cry at the thought that they cared enough to continue to do so.

"What happened the last time you did _this_?"

"You….umm….you took a switch….you took it to me in front of the Aerie….because…..because that's where I was hiding."

"And what do you think should happen now?"

He looked up at his older brother, meeting his eyes again, and he felt his insides melt at the look he gazed into. Partially at the thought that his older brother still cared enough about him to be so angry that this had happened, again, and partially at the thought of feeling the quick but relentless sting of a switch, and if his brother was in a particularly foul mood from it, feel it bent over something bared for all to see.

His older brother was not above having him find himself a switch, bend over the bed he currently sat on and bare himself, as he took the matter into hand.

"I should…" he looked down at his hands, where they now sat in his lap, and felt his face heat up again "I should go find you a switch."

"Why?"

"Because…Because I hid my injury from you."

His older brother hummed, and lifted his chin with a gentle finger, the eyes he looked into now were still upset, but they were concerned too.

"And why is that bad?"

"Because it could be serious and need immediate attention."

"You know this, baby brother." His thumb rubbed over his cheek lightly "So why did you insist on keeping this from me."

This time he looked down again, despite the finger under his chin, and he gripped the end of the bandage with his fingers "I didn't want you to turn me away again because I was being too needy." The Healer sighed sadly, it something that he was guilty of having done, at the beginning of the fighting between their two older brothers arguing, before it had reached such fevered pitches, the Messenger had always come to him and together they would provide comfort to one another, and then, one day some time ago, he had turned his baby brother away. Closed the door in his face and told him to grow up. He had leaned against the wooden surface listening to him sob on the other end and beg to be let in. In some sense, looking at this matter he was now faced with, he had gotten his wish.

Perhaps this was to serve as a lesson for himself too, a lesson to be careful of what you ask for, as this had been what he'd asked for.

Gabriel sucked in a shaky breath when the finger under his chin tilted his head back up, confused over the guilt that shone in his brothers eyes, the upset and concern was still there, but he looked guilty.

He brushed the single tear that slipped from his watering golden eyes away with his fingers as the finger und his chin removed itself, instead the hand coming to caress his cheek entirely.

"I am guilty of this. This is my penance, not just a poor decision on your part, you were merely doing as I had said for you to do. And it was wrong of me to turn you away when you came to me for help." It was the first time he had come to the realization that perhaps should have been come to much earlier then this, it wasn't just the younger generations that were suffering their pain in silence, it was much closer to their home then had originally been thought. His poor baby brother, he had been given the title, the one to bring on the end of times. The one who would commence the final battle with a blow to his horn. The decider of when his two older brothers would come to kill one or the other. He was the _Herald_. It would be something he would discuss with their older two brothers, later, in private, this was something that needed tending to before it became unfixable. "I am the _Healer_, I should never have turned you away when you came seeking my help, and most importantly, I am your _older brother_. I should have been at your side when you needed me to be there. And I was not. I can never repay you for what I have done in the past."

In their private little bubble, the bustling of the Infirmary faded away around them, their bubble of silence taking over. He never asked if it was his brother's doing, he had the power to silence everything else, he had the power of _life and death _at his fingertips as came with being the _Healer_, the one who could save lives or lose them. They could speak freely without the threat of eavesdroppers.

"But I am here now, and I shall never turn you away again, _never_. If you _ever _have need of me then I want you to come. Even for the simplest of things. I am your older brother it I should never have forgotten that. It won't happen again. I give you my word."

He leaned forward, and the Messenger closed his eyes as warm lips pressed to his temple, it tingled, the kiss pressed to his skin. His brother was built on electricity, raw, unrefined energy, everything he did tingled with power. He pressed a kiss to his temple to seal his promise, and caressed both cheeks in his hands, pressing their temples together for a moment, their eyes locking for a brief minute. Before he turned, reaching for a small clasped jar on the table, where Constantine had left the supplies he had asked for "Tea tree oil, you need to apply it every morning and every night, for at least a week and a half, it will fight off the infection quickly." The Healer handed the Messenger the jar, and offered him a cloth he'd pulled out from the sleeve of his long robes, "And to clean yourself up, unless you want them all to see this side of you, then be my guest and just stash it away for use later." Gabriel snorted wetly and wiped his face down, ridding himself of the evidence of his tears and rubbed the runniness from his nose away, "Thanks…" he looked up to the older archangel "Big brother."

"Anytime. I mean what I told you, now, so don't expect this leniency again. If this should happen again," he shook his head fondly as he stood from the bed and held out a hand to help his brother up beside him, he knew it would most certainly happen again, Gabriel had been stubborn from a very young age "I will have you off to the Garden to find me a switch at once after being tended to, if this should happen again, now there is no excuse not to come for me if you have something that needs tending."

Gabriel nodded seriously, he knew that this would not be the last time this happened, next time he would just be better at hiding it.

"And if you try and keep it away from me with more skill next time, count yourself, you wil bend over one of these beds bared."

He gaped slightly, not doubting that his brother had just read his mind, and he got a deep fond chuckle in return to his expression.

"I did _have _to read your mind, you where your thoughts on your face, and don't forget _who else _helped to raise you. I know you like I know the back of my hand."

"But—But, in front of _everyone_!"

"Oh, indeed, in front of everyone to witness. And I will not be so kind as to shift us away from their prying gazes like I did now. Just like I did in front of that Aerie of yours." There was a soft snort and he silently cursed his brother, careful to keep his features still at this knowledge that they could read out of his thoughts sometimes, and allowed his brother to pop their bubble "How long did my little messenger laugh at you?"

"Zaves laughed for a week, at least."

"Until I threatened to do the same to him."

It was his turn to snort, the Healer was truly a good older brother, when he didn't lose his way along the path, and it was no surprise the affect he had on others.

"You're a good big brother, Raph."

"And I am blessed to have you as my baby brother, little hummingbird, truly."


	206. Jaundice

"My son, what brings you to see Me?"

The guards at the Throne Room doors stopped him from entering, and he wobbled on the cane he now had to use at the forcefulness of the act, but He parted them with the raise of His hand, they did so begrudgingly, He knows, but they allowed the other entry at His command.

Sister leaned over as they watched him struggle, limping across the Throne Room to meet at the Thrones, "He suffers so much, Brother." She watched him with sad eyes "With more than just physical pain."

He nodded to Her, frowning Himself as He watched His child struggle with even the simplest of things, resisting the urge to merely pick him up and deposit him where he desired to be, it was something He could do of course, He was so much larger then even the largest Archangel, but He knew it would only make things worse.

Making the slow antagonizing trek across the Throne Room was a personal mission for him.

He panted by the time he met them, leaning heavily on his cane, and pressed a hand to his side as old injuries flared up from the exertion, but proud that he had made it to where he now stood without the aid of anyone but himself and his cane.

The angel looked up to his Father, choking on a breath as he tried to speak, and Father hushed him softly "I am not going anywhere, anytime soon, My little one. Catch your breath first." He nodded in thanks and did just so, waiting until the ache in his chest finally simmered away, and leaned on his cane as he looked back up to meet His eyes.

"I come for your forgiveness, Father."

"And what am I giving forgiveness for?" He looked confused for a moment "Have you done a wrong that even I am not privy to?"

"So many Father. I have done so much."

Sister leaned over again "The pain brother. It _hurts _even me." To which He nodded in acknowledgement. He wanted to take this conversation being had, take control of it, but He relented, this was something His son had come to do himself, and He would leave it for him to accomplish as any parent would be wont to do.

"I am the cause of it all, Father, I am the cause of the war we have all suffered, it is my fault."

He hummed softly, turning to look at Sister next to Him, She nodded softly and stood from Her throne, stepping away to some place other then where they occupied at the present time, this was a matter to be handled with privacy and great care.

"I see." He leaned forward on His throne, resting His elbows on His knees "And which one of your brothers has brought this on?" His sentry looked to his feet in shame, and He went on, it was His part to play in now, and He would play in kind "I see the way they look at you. The way you are treated. They talk to you with such venom. And never once have I seen you tell these things to your older brother."

"It is because I deserve those things, Father."

He shook His head and reached forward "May I?" when the limp angel nodded, He leaned down further and lifted him into His arms, it was at times like these He was grateful for His size, in comparison to His angels. Gadreel gave a small mew of surprise at being lifted from his feet and pulled into the lap of his Father. Arms curled around him, and he leaned against the chest underneath him, all at once was he comforted. In these arms, he was safe from the world, safe from the pain and the hurt.

"I have to admit, there is much that happened as consequence to the actions taken in The Garden," He curled him close into His embrace "But so much _good _has come out of it, it is only overseen by the bad that gets focused on, which is no fault of your own."

Gadreel purred softly at the fingers that scratched at his shoulders, arching into the touch, and his Father's chest rumbled with a soft chuckle.

"You have more the paid for the actions that you partook in. More than you should have. It is I who should be asking for your forgiveness."

He smiled sadly at the angel when he turned to look up at Him in surprise and confusion.

"I heard your cries for mercy. I heard your prayers. And in my blindness, I ignored them, in My rage I let you remain where you suffered."

Gadreel stared at his Father, a broken mess of an angel, unsure on whether or not he should even respond.

"And I allowed you to come by so much pain. There is nothing I can do to make it up to you. I will show you the love that you haven't felt in such a long time. You are forgiven, my strong little sentry, more than you believe yourself to be."

"I forgive you, Father."

He smiled down to him with love in His eyes, "I thank you, little one, because I don't deserve it."

"If I hadn't of broken your trust, none of it would have happened, it's not your fault."

"You are too kind. It has always been your greatest strength. It is I who broke the trust. I will strive everyday to earn it back. And I will alert your caretaker of the actions from others, I know you do not wish to burden him, but that was why he came to take you in with him."

Gadreel nodded, leaning back against the chest under him, closing his eyes at the warm arms around him. Everything was calm, and he was _comfortable_, the reassurances echoing in his mind.

"On a bright note, of course, you seem to be making strides in your recovery. I remember a time when you could barely make it three steps with just a cane for support and I am to believe you made it all the way here on your own?" he nodded at his Father, purring again when those fingers returned to scratching at his shoulders, and Father chuckled softly again "And I heard word that your laughter has once again graced our presence. A sound for weary ears, no doubt. Has your older brother been tormenting those poor feet of yours?" He chuckled when His son nodded against him "I remember a time, when you were a young angel, and you were often at the mercy of others with such a weakness. Even myself a few of those times. Does it still work as well as it did back then?"

There was a blush that warmed His son's features and He chuckled at it.

"Father, I am not so young anymore."

"That may be true, but from what I heard from your older brother, it still works just as well as it had all that time ago?"

"He is ruthless, Father."

He adjusted His hold on the angel "Where do you think he learned it from?" and reached for one of the bare appendages under him "I shall see for myself if his words be true or not."


	207. Kidnapped

"They're all going to kill you."

For someone who had been taken captive, the fledgling angel didn't look alarmed, and Crowley found her lack of fear at his presence to be on the annoying side. His mother was watching from the sidelines, she had never met the little brat before, and he only hoped she wasn't having second thoughts on this whole matter.

The throne of Hell was rightfully his, he had even ascended to it, he'd taken Hell's rightful king as his prisoner, treating him as his own little lap dog. He was meant for the ruling, not some demon ranked under him, and he would ensure his place on the throne.

Akeelah seemed unbothered by his attempt at intimidation "Please, have you seen Michael when he's mad at you, _that's _scary. You're just annoying." She smiled up at him in the way children do when they know they have the upper hand in whatever obstacle they faced "And he's going to be _so _mad!"

"Be quiet you brat!" he backhanded her across the face, her head spinning at the sudden attack, and he ignored his mother's gasp from behind him "Your _beloved _brother isn't even here." The fledgling angel had tears welling in her eyes from the sting, turning to look back at him again, and her eyes drifted up over his shoulder "Micha! He hit me!"

He had misinterpreted his mother's gasp at his action of smacking a child, and regretted it a tad, he had gotten one over on the Morningstar, and even than that had been from his weakened state, but this was the Prince. God's Sword. Even he had heard of the oldest archangels fondness for this fledgling, though he had never once thought of the chance he himself may come to retrieve her from whomever dared take her from him, and of course the entire supernatural world knew of his violent temper when one whom he was fond of was harmed.

"He did indeed, I witnessed it with mine own eyes, does your cheek sting?"

"It hurts, Micha!"

He moved with ease across the room, his mother had already been taken down, held in place against the stone wall with the ease of having the amount of power Michael had, it was merely a spec of power that resided in him to hold her prisoner where she was.

Crowley didn't stand a chance, he tried to defend himself, but the Sword was the best warrior in this Universe and the next. He choked on the air, trying to take in a much desired breath of air, as fingers curled around his throat.

The tall Archangel lifted him from his feet, leaving him kicking for purchase, struggling in his unyielding grip. He hung him there, midair and struggling a futile way, and left him there as he turned his attentions to the fledgling chained to the stone chair in the dungeon that they resided in. Michael melted the chains rather easily, a single tap of his finger, and took hold of her chin gently to turn it for a better angle of the damage done.

"Nothing too bad, baby sister, just a bit red."

He took her into his arms, settling her to perch on his hip, as he stood to face his own prisoner. Crowley was still kicking when he stepped back around into his vision, but he stopped once he returned, staring down at the might Archangel with rare fear shining in his eyes.

"You struck my dearest fledgling, Crossroads Demon."

"I sh'ld be k'g!"

"Alas, we can't all get what we want, you should be thanking me for my mercy." He smiled at the crossroads demon, looking down to the fledgling sitting on his side, she smiled back up at him and giggled when he poked her in the belly playfully "Her Choir Master wanted to come get her himself. I talked him down. He would have torn everyone to pieces, inch by inch." Michael turned back up to face the demon "I could not let him do that in front of the fledgling."

He felt fear settle into his stomach when the archangel smiled at him then.

"So, I said I would come to retrieve her, and thus, here I am. Now we take our leave. So that my brother may come to visit."


	208. Limp

"I have to get up, little one."

The fledgling laying draped over his stomach gave a dramatically long sigh, but more noticeably and much to his utter amusement, she made no moves to let him up. He pat her belly with his hand and tried to sit up.

"I have to greet the new initiates."

"But Nis can do that!"

She grasped onto his mattress as tight as she could, arms raised up over her head, refusing to allow herself to be moved.

"He does, as their Captain, just as I have to greet them into my flock."

"Say you're sick."

"I cannot lie. I am not sick. You just don't want to get up."

The fledgling giggled softly, and he smiled at the sound, there was no truer statement ever spoken then the one he just spoke. Her eyes sparkled up at him as she turned to meet his eyes "It's true." He raised an eyebrow at her "And you're the only one left too! Zaves is with Gabe on his mission, Luci is down in Hell doing stuff, Raph is out in the galaxy collecting star dust, Paul and Sasha have to be at the training field to greet the new initiates with Nis, and the Powers are stuck there too. You're the only one here."

"To entertain you?" he chuckled at her nod "You could come with me."

She shook her head and turned to stare back at the ceiling "And I'm comfortable here."

"I am comfortable too. But I have to be there. It is my flock that is greeting them in."

Her grasp on the blankets only tightened in the sign of a challenge to his words.

"I'm not moving."

He smiled at her issued challenge "Are you sure?" he poked a finger into her exposed underarm and she jolted "Even if I do this?" the stubborn fledgling only shook her head, biting her lip to keep from laughing out, refusing to be beat by the archangel at her own initiated challenge "Oh ho, being stubborn now, are we?" she nodded her head, refusing to let go of the blankets despite how much he knew she wanted to, she was a ticklish little thing and he's had practice.

Michael chuckled at her resolve, he would break it, "Well then, I guess it won't matter if I do this?", he reached for her belly with his other hand, laying his entire hand flat on her little belly, and she sucked in a breath but remained strong in her position, and he stilled his wiggling finger in her underarm. He felt her brace under him for the oncoming attack and he chuckled in playful darkness "Oh, I'll get you to let me go, little one."

And he made his attack.

Spidering his fingers over her little belly, moving up to dig into her ribs, before returning to the shaking belly once more. His other hand dug into her underarm harshly. She screamed brightly, laughing mightily, letting go of the blanket instantly to curl away from his skillful attack.

But he was not so merciful, the fledgling had made him late, if she wanted someone to play with then he would happily oblige. Thus, the archangel curled his own leg over hers, keeping her from turning to the side, and snatched her right wrist into his grasp, lifting the arm back up again for further torment.

"Is that all it takes to break Heaven's most stubborn fledgling?" he chuckled through his teasing, scratching a few fingers between her right ribs, and she shrieked in delight as any fledgling would do "A few wellplaced tickles will break even the mightiest of little one's resolve?" he spider'd his fingers from her hip, all the way up her side to get a bit of an attack under her arm, and back down once more to start the entire cycle over again, all the while the fledgling shrieking and laughing brightly into the stillness of his room.

"MICHAHAHA! Stopstopstopstop!"

"I don't know?" Now he squeezed at her little flank, smiling when she tried to jolt in the other direction, but was well and truly stuck to his mercy now "You didn't want to get up, remember?"

"Michaha! I'm uhuhup! I'M UP!"

"Are you sure?"

"Michahaha! Tihihihickles!"

"I know it does, you stubborn fledgling you."

Michael smiled at her, sitting up now that she had let go of the blankets and there was no chance of hurting her, and dug in with his other hand as he let her little arm go. This time the fledgling did curl in on herself in his lap.

"Would you like to come to the greeting with me?"

"Yehehehes! _Michahaha!"_

"Now, tell me how much you love me."

He stilled his fingers for a moment, and she looked up at him with bright playful eyes, huffing in breath after breath, before she lifted both arms for a dramatic exclamation of _'__This much Micha!' _and immediately flung them back down when he dug back into her high ribs, laughing crazily and arching her back slightly.

"Michahahahaha! _Plehehehease!_"

"Will you give me a kiss on my cheek and come with me, if I stop?"

"Yesssss!"

The archangel immediately stopped, leaning down for her, and he smiled at the feeling of warm little lips pressing to his cheek in a quick giggly kiss, curling his arms around her as he rolled up and out of the bed.

She was still giggling softly at the remaining tingles from such a brutal attack when he stood them in the middle of his room, and he laughed softly in time with the warm bubbly giggles, returning the kiss in kind, nudging her soft little cheek with his nose.

"Shall we make our leave then?"


	209. Manhandled

When they were called out to join in the fray of battle, the Powers didn't often bring their new inductees with them, it was not a place for proving ones self and they were smart enough to know not to run the risk of having someone fail on their end where failure was not a choice to be had.

So, they left them behind, at the Pavilion, to watch over their two young ones. It was a trust that not many were granted, few outsiders got close enough to the two of them to be of any bother them, they were well protected by Heaven's fiercest warriors.

It was no fear of theirs that one of their own would ever mean them wrong, all knew of their protectiveness of their two fledglings (though young Paul would always object to the title—it always stuck no matter his objections), and most, if not all, were not willing to try their luck being on the bad side of the warriors trained at the direct hand of the Archangel himself.

So, when they return after the heat of intense battle, wanting nothing more then to wash and spend the rest of their evening lazing around with two of their youngest family members only to lay witness to the battle being fought within their own home, it comes as a surprise to them all.

It had been Titus who had appointed Galizur for the position, and it was him and Puriel who held their captain back from attacking when they fell upon the sight of such ill will to his two young charges, it was Sasha who noticed them first, gathered in the entrance watching the tirade, and bit into the hand that had been holding him tight enough to bruise his forearm as hard as he could. The inductee yelled in pain, turning from his preparation to strike Paul with intent to cause harm, withdrawing his hand in quick succession, raising it to his mouth as he prepared to strike with the other. The fledgling gave a squeak of terror and bolted from his spot, making it just out of his reach by a mere inch, and his eyes widened in realization when the fledgling ran into someone's waist, clutching as tight as he could.

Realization turned to horror when he travelled over the face pressing against sturdy armor up to the one that took the strength of two others to hold back from running forward at the treatment of _his _charges. And by one of their own no less.

"He's gonna _kill _you, dickwad." The other one spoke up from behind him, and he turned to spy him over his shoulder, eyes blown wide still at the sudden appearance of their audience. The youngling, Paul, smirked at him from behind. He'd crossed his arms loosely as he continued his smirking "Are you ready to _die_?"

It was a sight to see, indeed, the might captain of the Power's being restrained by two of his own, a fledgling hanging onto his waist with his face smooshed against his armor, and the others gripping their weapons tight as they prepared to jump in for their captain. The two fledglings weren't just his, they were _theirs_, and _no one _harmed one of their own, especially one appointed with the trust of protecting them while they couldn't do it themselves.

"Paul." Puriel admonished lightly, it was a nasty habit picked up in the war, fledglings saying such things was more common then it should be, "Tell us what happened?"

Nisroc finally managed to yank his arms free from Titus and Haniel's grip, on the word that he would not simply kill the other on mere sight alone and bent to lift his quivering fledgling into his arms. Sasha mewed softly, curling in closer now that he had a better position to do so, and just like that, all the progress they had made with the skittish fledgling was out the window.

"Where is Hasmal?"

The mighty fire breathing Power would not have simply left them, he was one of their own, though he spent most of his time guarding the Throne. Before they had left, Nisroc had gone to him, he did not know Galizur enough to trust him to be alone with his beloved two fledglings and had asked him to return if only to guard them in his absence, he would never abandon his post, thus his current absence was worrying.

Paul nodded at Puriel, skirting around Galizur's side to meet at his, fingers curling around the strap that connected the front of his armor to the back, and the archer set his hand on the fledglings head.

"We were playing around, me and Sasha, Hasmal was playing with us too, and Sasha accidentally knocked over a jar of paints on Galizur. It was an accident. I swear. I saw it with my own eyes. And the next thing we know, he's railing into him, yelling and carrying on, and then he tried to smack him and I jumped into it."

"That does not tell us where Hasmal is though."

"Well, he tried to stop him, but Galizur punched him in the face. And Hasmal was still weak from being released by Aunt after Her and Father got back together so when he got punched, he fell and hit his head on the table and then he didn't get back up again."

"That brat spilled it on me on purpose!"

Nisroc's voice was tight when he finally spoke, the only sign of his anger being barely restrained due to the fledgling he held in his arms, the last thing they needed was for him to think that anger was directed at him "First, he is not a _brat_, he is _mine_." His eyes blazed with a fire unknown when he finally looked up at Galizur, "Second, Sasha may have moments of clumsiness, all fledglings do, but he would _never_ cause harm on purpose." The captain turned sharply, gesturing with a sharp jerk of his chin, "Get him out of my sight before I make true on _my _charge's words."

Abraxos and Cerviel broke from their positions at his shoulders to do as ordered, dragging their inductee out of the room, their captain was not one to use empty threats. Matters of harming a fledgling and one of The Returned went directly to the Archangel, and it was there that he was dragged, Michael did not take kindly to it in the slightest and his punishments were harsh and swift for such actions. The Archangel sent one of them for a healer to see to Hasmal, while he himself went to talk to Father on the matter, harming a fledgling was under their jurisdiction as Flock Master, but The Returned fell under His.

The captain nodded at the others and they dispersed, Puriel taking Paul with him to wash up, as he had blue paint dripping down his hair and shoulders, but he took the fledgling with him personally. Sashael would refuse to let go for anyone else at this point anyway.

It was a struggle to strip out of his armor and under tunic and trousers holding a fledgling in his arms, but he managed, refusing to set him down just as much as the fledgling would refuse to be too, walking them both down the washroom where Abraxos and Cerviel still remained as they returned last of them all due to the matters the Archangel requested of them.

He held the fledgling under the warm water raining down from the stalactites above, a feature created at the hand of their archangel upon creating the Pavilion, brushing the wet curls away from his eyes, "Are you alright, little one?"

Sasha nodded, letting go when Nisroc lifted him to sit on a stone ledge jetting out from the cave wall, and he lifted his arm with care to look the bruise over, and leaned over to press his lips to it.

"It will heal in a few days."

The fledgling nodded, sitting under the warm water on the ledge, letting the Power return to washing away the grime and such from the battle that had been waged for his absence, knowing that when he was done he would be taken back up again.

Nisroc wrapped a towel around his waist, unfolding one for his fledgling, lifted him back into his arms once he was wrapped warmly with in the soft fluffy cloth.

"Are you okay to join us in the common area?" he looked down to the fledgling cuddling into him "If not we can go back to my rooms instead."

Sasha nodded against his shoulder, he still wanted to play with the others, and the thought that their progress on the matter of showing him that not all were there to cause him harm had not been broken completely, sure, it was torn just a bit, but they would manage to fix it in quick manner.


	210. New

The begin rebuilding their home after they get the fields in order, their Archangel helping clear away the stone and sift through the green grass for the broken shards of glass, their belongings still sit in the ashy pile at the entrance of their home and they stare at it in silence for a long moment, it's a sad moment, there is nothing left from what they had before, it had all been eaten in jaws of the fire on that fateful night.

Nisroc looked down at the little hand that slipped into his, the only thing able to bring a slight smile to his features being the small fledgling that returned to his side, she turned to look up at him and returned the smile in kind.

"Hello, Baby Power."

"Hi."

She turned to look at the pile of ashes, what remained of their belongings, and sighed softly "Sorry about your stuff."

"It is alright."

The fledgling shook her head "No it's not."

Akeelah tugged on his hand, stepping back, away from the pile of ash and he turned to follow at the insistent tugging. His eyebrows met in confusion at the bundled blanket that had been set down just behind her, turning a gaze of inquiry to the youngest member of their family, turning completely with her as curiosity won over on his mind.

The others turned to look at her sudden appearance, confused at the bundle she'd brought with her, and gathered in behind him as she tugged him over.

"I wanna show you somethin!"

"Yes, fledgling, you needn't tug so hard, I will follow."

She let go of his hand and knelt beside her bundle of secrets, Abraxos knelt beside her, tilting his head to the side in question "What have you got there?"

"Stuff."

The fledgling uncurled the edges of the blanket and leaned forward on her knees, but they all fell still, staring at the objects that sat in a pile on the blanket, their mouths falling open in surprise. They had all thought that everything they owned had been destroyed during the night of fire, and yet here they stood, staring at the goodies she had pilfered for her own.

She reached first for a singed book, the cover and pages crackled under her gentle grasp, but remained otherwise unharmed. The fledgling stood and held it out for the dark Power, Titus took it tenderly, holding as though anything tighter would break it to dust. An old book, a gift from the Messenger when he was younger, a book of stories that had once been read to him before bed, and he had kept it as his most prized possession.

"How..?"

Their fledgling smiled "I liked the stories in it. So, I took it before they could throw it in. I hid it in my robe."

Next, she picked up a smudged necklace, a star hanging off the middle of the chain, and she held it out to Haniel. The Power took it with care, staring down at it with wide eyes, having thought it was lost. It had been a gift from his old guardian before he had chosen his flock.

"Where did you-?"

Akeelah shrugged "I thought it was pretty, so, I took it."

He thanked her with a silent smile, tucking the object he held close to heart into a fist, and he pressed his fist against his lips.

She reached for another book, simple, slightly burnt at the edges, but otherwise unharmed, and held it up for Puriel. The Power's eyes widened as he took the book, flipping through the pages of the handwritten stanzas, little hymns that he had created deep into the night. He had thought it was surely destroyed with everything he owned, he had written the first ones with his old guardian, the Morningstar had even helped create some melodies to a few of them, and the Choir still sang them to this day.

"How did you-?"

"I grabbed it from the edge, cause I liked the flower drawn on the front, Jeremiah helped me with some of them. They're really pretty songs. Did you write them?"

"I…I did."

"They're really good!"

She lifted a bundled-up blanket from her stash, holding it up for Abraxos, and the Power simply stared at it. The blue fabric, weaved together by hand, gifted to him by his guardian at a very young age. He had kept it since his fledglinghood, curling tightly into it during the hard times, to remember a time that once was. He took it gingerly, curling his fingers into the soft thick cloth, holding it close in his arms, and buried his face in it for a moment. He had seen them throw it in, he had watched them, and as he unfurled it he saw the patch that had been woven in to mend the burnt side.

"You..?"

"I liked the color. It's really warm too, I slept in it a lot, it's really comfy. Jeremiah helped me mend some of the parts that got burned."

And then she looked down at her empty bundle, and Nisroc felt his heart clench tightly, despite being happy for his brothers at the return of those things that they held so close to their heart, it still hurt to know that his cloak was gone forever. He looked down at the little body that pressed to his front, elbows digging into his lower stomach, and felt his eyebrows furrow at the red bundle that was held up to him, the blanket that had been used to carry such items being returned to their rightful owner. He wasn't sure what he was meant to do with it, but as it was a gift for him, he took it from her hands without protest.

The blanket unfurled in his fingers, falling open, and he stared at it in shock.

He had watched it be dropped into the flames with his own eyes, and yet here it was in his hands, "How did you…? I saw.."

"I came back for it the next morning. There's some patches of different cloth, we tried to keep it red, Jeremiah helped me mend it again. It was warm and I wore it during the winter time and slept with it and stuff."

He stared at it, the cloak he had been given by his guardian before he had grown cold, as a gift for his choosing. It was his most prized possession, even over his personally crafted sword, this was the one thing that had hurt him the most when it had been thrown into the fire.

"You came back for it?"

"Yep. Jeremiah wasn't happy that I was here that night. He talked really mad for a long time. So, I came back to get it so he could help me fix it again." She kicked at the dirt under her foot "I was scared of you though, so I didn't try to give it back."

"I….We….We can never begin to thank you. You are truly the most caring fledgling I've had the pleasure of meeting."


	211. Over It

"Sir."

The Healer looked up at the touch to his arm, turning to meet the gaze of his lieutenant curiously at the intrusion in his teaching, they all knew to leave him be when there was a class abut to learn their chosen craft.

"Yes, Oren?"

"A visitor."

He followed the gesture to the entrance of the Infirmary, where the young fledgling stood nervously, tugging on the edge of his tunic as he looked around the bustling Infirmary and he tilted his head in wonder at the choir fledgling so far from the safety of his pantheon.

"Oren, tend to the class for a moment, would you?"

The archangel missed the knowing smile that split his lieutenants features for a moment, as he nodded with a soft affirmation, watching over his shoulder as his commander glided through the others bustling about to reach the fledglings side.

As much progress as they were making, it was still rare for a _fledgling _to wander into the _Infirmary _these days, most still remembered how cold the Healer had grown, how terrifying he could be in the heat of battle. He was an angel of compassion, but let it never be mistaken, he was still one of Heaven's most terrifying weapons. So, with how rare it was, to have a fledgling come in without another behind them provoking their entrance, it was a rare thing indeed.

"Young Jezaniah?" the fledgling looked up quickly at the sound of his name, at the deep voice that called out to him, but it was equally as soothing as it was deep, and he gave a slight breath of relief at the sight of the Healer, watching as he knelt before him, resting his elbows on his knees "What brings you here?" he looked him over with his eyes, concern lacing his gaze "Are you not well?"

He shook his head, "No-wait-yes-yes I'm okay!"

The archangel raised an eyebrow in amusement "Are you sure, little one?"

"Yes. Yes, I'm okay. I just…Sariel was being herself….And I was getting annoyed…And…And I wanted to see you again."

"You wished to see me again?"

His fledgling companion blushed deeply and nodded, looking to his feet in sudden shame, it was wrong to want the attention of an archangel when they had so many other things they had to worry about. "I can…I can go if you want….You looked like you were busy…I'm sorry for disrupting your class…" and the fledgling turned to make his departure.

Fingers hooked under his arms and he was lifted away from the ground, he yelped on instinct, reaching out to clutch at the thing nearest him, his fingers curling into warm soft robes.

"Nonsense. You could never be a disruption. You came all this way, stay with me a while, rest those legs of yours."

He looked up in surprise as the Healer settled him on his arm, smiling down to the fledgling he carried, and turned to return to his class. Oren snorted in an amused manner at his return, giving him a knowing look, and he swatted at him playfully. The Virtue laughed softly as he ducked under the swat and dashed away to tend to those on the other end and well away from swatting distance.

The class watched him approach with wide eyes, the fledgling on his arm becoming shy at the sudden amount of eyes that fell upon him, and they watched in fascination as he hid himself in the folds of the Healer's robes.

Raphael smiled at the feeling, and pat his little thigh in comfort, returning to his class with the fledgling perched on his arm now.

"Now, who can tell me what we do to treat wounds unseen to the midsection?"

A few brave souls raised their hands, and he pointed to the short female towards the back of the class, waving for the others to allow her a place in the front. Her dark short hair framed her face, and she looked up at him with brilliant emerald eyes.

"Asroilu?"

"Um, Sir, we feel the afflicted area for tenderness?"

"Yes, very good…This would be so much easier if we had an example." He smiled suddenly and looked down to the shy fledgling curled into his shoulder "Little Jeza, would you mind being our guide for this lesson?" the fledgling looked up at him with wide anxious eyes, turned to peer at the ones gathered around for their class, and then back to the Archangel giving a nod of approval. "Very good." The Healer carefully turned him on his arm, pressing him back against his chest, his arm curled between his legs to keep him from falling. He pulled the boys top up slightly to reveal the area they were using as their example.

The teacher looked back to his student "If the afflicted area is here," he curled his hand around the boy's tummy "We would first feel for tenderness, is that right Asroilu?"

"Yes sir."

He nodded and pressed his fingers into the boys belly, it elicited a light yelp of surprise and a fit of soft giggles from him, and the Healer smiled at the sound of it. It brightened the room with its melody, the young choir angel giggling with the innocence of a fledgling, and he could feel his lieutenants eyes on the back of his head burning him with his amusement.

"Then what?" More hands went up, "Sophia?"

Another female stepped forward, taller then the last, with long brown hair braided down her back.

"If we find a tender spot, we press it for reaction, and depending on the reaction is the treatment we give."

He felt around the belly, smiling to himself when he found a place that elicited a soft shriek of laughter, and nodded to his student "And what are the possible causes to be treated?"

"Internal bleeding."

"Bruising."

"Internal punctures."

They scattered when he dismissed them for the day, some choosing to follow elders around, others to go off to do only Father knew what, he didn't much care what they did so long as they worked on their studies and returned when they were meant to. With them gone, he turned to the fledgling still perched on his arm, his hand resting lightly on the small belly.

"And you, what was that I heard?" he squeezed his belly playfully and the boy squirmed with a small happy shriek "Are we a wee bit sensitive?" Jezaniah giggled softly, a soft tinkling sound, and looked up at him with bright eyes. "You said you had come in a foul mood, should I relieve you of this?"

"I'm happy now!" he giggled out between pokes to his little belly, the Healer chuckled, turning to walk among his patients as he was wont to do when there was none that needed his direct intervention "Are you sure? It is not healthy for ones as young as you to be unhappy."

"I'm positive!"

The little boy squirmed when those long nimble fingers poked at the side of his tummy, giggling softly with every one, reaching down with his hands to curl his little fingers around the Healer's wrist "R-Ra-Rapha! Tickles!"

"I know it does, little Jeza," the Archangel sounded amused, fond almost, but definitely amused "That's why I do it. We can't have you grumpy."

"I'm not!"

"You swear to me?"

"I swear!"

Raphael smiled, but relented, and instead curled him back around to rest against his shoulder "Then I shall let you go, for now, I do want to explore this sensitivity a bit more at a later time."

Time passed quickly, and soon the fledgling had fallen asleep on his shoulder, the sun was nearly setting and yet no one had come to retrieve the slumbering fledgling, and concern began to set in. The archangel had no problems with carrying him, he was a light and warm weight that was very much manageable, but one would think a guardian would have come for him by now.

Oren was frowning as he stepped up to his side, similar thoughts seemingly passing through his own mind, and they both turned to watch as bodies slowly stopped trickling in through the front, leaving the only ones there as the ones who were not well enough to leave just yet.

"No one has come for him?"

The Healer shook his head, "None thus far." He looked to the sleeping fledgling on his shoulder "I do not want to keep him from bed for too long, but it is concerning none have come to retrieve him, from what I can remember, he does have a guardian."

"Then why have they not come?"

"I do not know, Oren, though I wish I had the answer."

The Virtue fell silent for a moment as they watched the stars slowly begin to shine in the darkened night sky. At this time, guardians would be tucking their fledglings in for sleep, and yet this one remained with them instead.

"Did he mention anything to you?"

"He mentioned his begin stage of annoyance at one called Sariel, I have met her myself and this annoyance is well placed, as sad as it is to say, I just fear that her words may have gotten between guardian and charge."

"You don't think they would have turned their back on him?"

"Some will do even the most unthinkable when swayed by others. All I know is that she was not happy that he came to explore with his young friend, Akeelah, and from what I've heard, his guardian is not exactly the type to stand up."

He stilled when the fledgling shivered softly against him, and the Healer reached to the side for the blanket from the empty bed he stood next to, curling it around his small frame and the shivering came to a stop.

"What will become of him now, sir, I am sure we could find him a suitable temporary caretaker as the matter is addressed."

"Nonsense, I will not give him to another who he does not know, he's already too shy as it is." He looked down to the slumbering fledgling and rubbed a soothing circle over his back "He will stay with me for the time being."

"Excuse me, sir, but you are such a softie."

"Excused, now come closer so that I may swat you upside the head."


	212. Poison

Watching from the entrance as they all bustled about, orders being yelled, bodies moving quickly about to complete the task assigned, they watched as the large form of the archangel was laid on the bed. The other three hovered around, offering their strength to keep him stable enough for the healers to work, no one noticed the fledgling hovering in the entrance, watching them all run around in a quick paced panic.

She turned to look up when a hand curled over her shoulder, meeting the eyes of her long-time friend, and the young messenger smiled sadly in greeting.

"Zaves, will he be okay?"

The messenger looked over at the archangel laying limp across the bed. Their enemy had attacked the Healer, combined their powers together to take him out before taking on everyone else, with him out of the way there was no one there to heal the warriors of the light as they were knocked down. It had been a dagger coated in an unknown poison that had brought the mighty Healer to his knees.

"They know what they're doing."

"But how do you fix something when you don't know what it is?"

She was more observant then most gave her credit for due to her flighty nature, moving like the breeze through the trees, freely and at her own will. He looked back up at them and frowned. It was a question that had clouded his mind too. How does one heal something they don't know the workings too.

An idea struck him in that minute, a horrible idiotic idea that would have him bent over his master's desk in a heartbeat, but he was too preoccupied with keeping the Healer stable with his grace to give it much thought, and therefore it left him to try even the dumbest of ideas, and this one would most certainly take the top of the list.

"Do you want to help?"

His fledgling friend nodded up at him with a seriousness unseen, and he gave one in return, turning on his heel back out of the Infirmary with the fledgling in quick step behind him. They passed the Powers on their way down, as they made their way up to see if they may lend a helping hand, and Nisroc halted for a moment as he watched them step passed.

"What are you up to?" the others stopped behind him "I know that look."

"Don't worry about it. Mind your business."

The Power Captain blinked at the snap from over the messengers shoulder, motioning for the others to continue on without him, and fell instep with them a few paces back. There was nothing good to be had by the look the messenger bore, and he would be there to stop them before they did something too idiotic, or cause harm to themselves or others.

Akeelah looked up to the messenger as they weaved between passing bodies.

"Zaves, what are we going to do to help?" she stepped closer as a tall angel passed on her right "Shouldn't we have stayed back there if we were going to help?"

"No, they need help finding a cure, they don't know what the poison is." He looked down to her as he stepped closer as another passed on his left "We cant help them there, but we can help them here, follow me and I'll show you."

He led the three of them to the Prince's office, pushing away his cloak and guarders for the item that sat tucked in a thick piece of leather, he curled his fingers around it and lifted it for her to see.

"This is the dagger that pierced the Healers skin with the poison coated on it's blade."

Akeelah tilted her head to the side in wonder "Okay?"

"Semyaza has been teaching you his craft?"

"Yep. We've already made a cure for hemlock poisoning."

He nodded and pulled the dagger out of the leather sheath, it glistened in the light with the mysterious substance, and he twirled it in his fingers to look it over closely.

"Semyaza is going to be the one to develop the cure, we all know it, but he would never dare experiment on the Archangel."

"What does that have to do with us helping?"

He smiled at her sadly "I'm going to cut myself with the dagger so that it may infect me so that Semyaza can experiment with his cures."

She jumped forward, curling her fingers around his arm tightly, "Zaves! No! What if they attack again! They need everyone they can get to fight! They need you too!"

"I can't just let him fade! He raised me 'Keelah!"

The fledgling took a deep breath, steeling herself for the action, and held her arm up to him.

"Do it to me instead."

He looked against it, pulling the dagger back slightly, his eyes wide at the exclamation.

"I—I cant do that!"

"Then I will!", she stomped on his foot harshly and he bent immediately to grab at the appendage, using his bending to her advantage, she snatched the dagger from his hand "Tell 'Yaza to work fast!" she dug the blade in her arm and pulled, carving a straight line, and hissed in pain as the poison quickly dug it's claws into her.

"No!"

Both turned in surprise at the sudden intrusion, startled that they had been followed, as the Captain ran into the room to catch the fledgling when her legs gave out from under her. Nisroc cursed himself for not jumping in sooner, but he was too caught up in the aspect of what they had even suggested as a course of action.

"Why would you do something so _foolish_?"

The fledgling smiled up at him, the dark veins of the poison spreading up her arm, "We had to help Nis."

"But not at the threat to your own life."

Zaveriel stood back up straight, though still heads shorter than the Power, determination had set in.

"We have to find Semyaza."

Nisroc bit back his retort and nodded in agreement, the fledgling did not have much time, the Healer did not have much time, it was a fast acting poison. The apothecary already had a few concoctions mixed together when they had arrived at his lab. The Grigori invited them in with haste, motioning to the empty bed to set the fledgling on, and gathered the vials he had already created.

One by one, both messenger and Power watched as he forced one after the other down the fledglings throat, frowning deeper when his luck remained to be seen.

"The Healer would have whipped you if he knew of your plan."

"What he doesn't know can't hurt him."

"You would be a fool to think he would not find out."

Zaveriel shrugged, rushing forward when he saw a twitch in his friends fingers, "Yaza! She moved!"

The chewing out they had received from the three enraged archangels was enough to bring about a meek silence that echoed through them, sitting huddled on the bed nearest the Healer as Semyaza injected his winning mixture into the same wound that had allowed the poison entrance into his body.

It took three minutes for the antidote to start taking affect and they all gave relieved sighs when the Healer's fingers twitched against the blanket he lay under.


	213. Question

It was rare for the Healer to be seen striding through the halls of the Aerie, even more so to see the dark look that hung over his features, something having been brought to his attention during the time he had been compromised. The fledgling had been dealt with accordingly, and his older brother would surely carry her around for the good part of the rest of the day, her poor bottom warmed from the hand of her big brother for her part in the action of finding the cure.

Now he was on his mission to complete the other half of his comeuppance. Never in his long life had he thought that his once charge would be so foolish to allow something to nearly come to harm him, to put himself under the influence of a poison unknown to aid them in finding the cure. Semyaza would have found it at some time, he was well versed in his craft, and though they had helped speed the process along, he did not have to agree with the methods taken.

And he would exhibit such feelings with force.

Zaveriel saw him coming from the atrium and felt horror settle in the pit of his stomach at the look that adorned the Healer's features, jumping to his feet, away from the enraged archangel, and the others around him watched in surprise and curiousness. The Virtue Captain was known to do things that would anger others, but never had they seen such a look settle over the Healer before, and they wondered what he had done to anger the archangel so deeply.

"Nisroc told you!"

"_Did you think I would not find out?"_

He flinched at the tone, jumping back a few paces, as though to bolt at a moments notice. The Healer pointed a finger at him in warning, "If you even _think _about running, I will strip you bare _right here_, in front of _everyone. _Of all the stupid, idiotic things to do, I raised you better than that, I can't _believe _this!"

"I did it to _help _you!"

"How do you think _I _would have felt waking up to be told you had been delivered to uncle?"

"Semyaza found the cure!"

The Healer nodded sharply, his warning being heeded by the frightened messenger, and he quickly closed the distance between them. The other messengers watched the exchange with widened eyes, caught up in the drama, they had all heard what the Captain had done. They had heard his cries from the Messengers night late into the night on the same evening that the Healer had woken.

"He would have found the antidote _regardless_!"

"But he did so _quicker _with us!"

The distance between them was quickly overcome and the messenger ducked out from his reach, "Raph! _No_! I didn't do anything _wrong_!"

"You nearly got yourself and a fledgling _poisoned to death _and you have the audacity to say you did _nothing_!"

He dodged again.

_"__Still."_

Even the messengers not in the chase being made flinched at the sharp, unforgiving tone of the Healer, and Zaveriel came a stand still despite his instinct telling him to bolt. Long nimble fingers curled around his ear and tugged him forward, surprising others as they marched through the halls of the Aerie, down the stone steps, and across to the Garden. He felt numb as he watched them step into the Garden, the soft grass brushing underfoot as they marched along, sparing the Gardener a worried look, to which it was returned with one of understanding, and he stumbled slightly as he was pulled forward.

"Find yourself a switch."

He back pedaled quickly "Wha—What? No, Raph, you can't be _serious_!"

"Oh, I very much am, you will find yourself one, or," he held up a hand sharply, to silence the messengers protests "Or I will remove my belt _and _then you will find yourself a switch. Pick your choice."

"But, Raph, I helped save you!"

"And I am grateful, truly, but I will not allow you to do such _harm_ to gain such results. There is always another way. _Always_. You were just _impatient_."

"Raph, please!"

He crossed his arms, "I would hurry, my patience wears thin, you have limited time before I chose for you and trust me when I say that you don't want that to happen."

The messenger went pale at the thought of having to go through both, one hurt enough, but both were horrible. He knew in that moment just how much the Healer had been afflicted by his poorly made decision, looking into his thunderous eyes, and thus, to save himself the agony of having to feel the sting of both belt and switch, he nodded and turned to find himself what was tasked of him. The Healers eyes watched him closely, as though to ensure he did not try to bolt, as he found a branch from a low hanging tree and broke it off.

He was slow, so _so_ slow, as he tore the twigs off from the sides, the leaves falling under him, until there was nothing left but the thin branch itself, and he held the switch out to the Healer in silence.

The archangel nodded, gesturing to the overturned tree with the implement, and he slowly trudged over to lay himself over it.

"Bare yourself."

"But—_But Raph!"_

"Now."

His hands shook at he did what he was told, and slowly lowered himself over the overturned tree trunk, waiting in an edge of emotions for the sting that was sure to come in a moment's notice. He heard it hiss as it was pulled back and thrown forward, tensing as he prepared himself for it, and jumped when it finally landed with a sharp blow and then it hissed back again with another pull, and he jumped again when it landed back just as sharply as the first time.

There were fifteen strikes in total, though he had broken on the sixth, and his pleading had started at the eighth, the Healer was not one to be merciful in his teachings and it was a lesson he wanted to ensure was well remembered, by the time they had reached their end he was hanging limply over the trunk crying harder then he had since he was a small fledgling fearing being banished over simply not wanting to be a healer.

A gentle hand pressed to his lower back as he was helped with righting his trousers, and when he had secured them in place, those hands turned him around to curl into the Healer's strong chest. The messengers fingers popped at the pressure of his hold on the front of his robes, as he sobbed into the emerald robes that Raphael was known for, taking comfort in the hand that rubbed at his back and stroked through his hair.


	214. Restraint

He tugged experimentally at the cuffs around his wrists as he was led down the dimly lit hallway, passed a series of cells that contained only innocent souls and their only crime being that of the flock they had chosen with honor, and he stepped into the cell that was gestured to.

The messenger watched as his sentry reached through the bars with the keys, to undo the cuffs that had kept him hostage until they reached the cell he was meant for, and he curled his fingers around the wrists, pulling them forward against the bars that separated them.

"This will change _everything_."

The Captain looked up at him with saddened eyes, the cuffs clicked as the locking mechanism was released, and he rubbed at his wrists when they were pulled away, letting go of the other.

"I'm only following orders, Zaves."

"But you have a mind. You know he would never punish you for objecting!"

The Power stepped forward again, fingers curling around the bars, "You don't _know _that." He looked down the hall to ensure they were alone "He is _broken_, Zaves. The Fall and consuming war has broken him."

"It broke us _all, _Nisroc. He has no excuse."

"I dare not object to the orders given. We must all do what we need to survive."

Zaveriel rushed forward, hands reaching between the bars, his fingers curling around the collar of the Power "The only reason you _survive _is because he wouldn't dare get rid of his _Powers_. You live in privilege while everyone else suffers from a war we wanted _no _part in."

"We all suffer the same as everyone else."

He shook his head "You tell yourself that if it helps you get through the day. You do not _suffer, _you're _cowards_, I'm here because I _dare _to refuse to bow to a new master, you are here because you are following your _orders_."

"Zaves, I did not want to bring you here."

The messenger let go of the Power's collar and stepped back, gesturing towards his cell with his arms, a hard light coming to shine in his eyes.

"And yet, _here_, you delivered me. You're a _coward_ living and breathing, _Power."_

The spitting of his title was thrown at him with venom and the Power flinched back from it as if he was struck by an unseen force. Something harsh set over him then, something darker, and he glared at the messenger with distaste.

"And you are where all _traitors _belong, _Messenger_."

And just like that, a friendship that had lasted eons was destroyed in a single breath, another casualty in a war that could have been avoided.


	215. Saved

Bringing an archangel back to life was something similar to a star exploding in space, there was so much raw energy, so much power, so much s_trength, _that went into one being with the fine tuning of a Hand.

The last one to be brought back by His hand was His Morningstar, the last of His four first sons to meet their end, and together they met each other with scorn. There was still bad blood and rotting wounds between them that needed to be tended to before any real healing could be made, until they could all begin moving forward. There was so much hostility between the four brothers, who He had once remembered being nearly inseparable, and to see them now broke His heart.

Lucifer stood apart from them, his grace curled tight, as though he was a viper waiting for anyone to dare to try and get close enough.

To His wonder, it was the Messenger who dared step closer to his older brother, and the Morningstar watched him closely with every step.

"Luce…?"

He sneered at the younger archangel "You called me a _cancer _and you think you have the right to speak my _name _again, _Messenger."_

"I was wrong to sa—"

"Save your sorry excuse for an apology. I don't want to hear your lies."

He watched as His Messenger grew angry "You know what? I'm _not _sorry! You are a _cancer! _Eating everything that's good away until theirs nothing left but brokenness! You're a _monster_!"

"I am not a _monster!_"

"Oh, yes you are, you would willingly kill your own brother then stand down!"

The Morningstar surged forward, taking the younger archangel by the neck, and He prepared Himself to step in. Turning to peer at His other two sons, they had yet to say their part, and had chosen to merely stand by and watch them play out before them. The Messenger choked for a breath as he was lifted from his feet, fingers scratching at the older archangels wrists in a vain attempt to get him to let go.

"And _you_? You dare _lecture _me? You, who would see me _drained _of all my grace? _You, _who told those monkeys how to lock me back in my cage?" he squeezed his throat harder and the Messenger wheezed for a breath "I _thought _I stabbed a clone of you. It came as a shocking surprise when the wings ingrained into the floor. You _lecture _me about being _brothers _when it was you who allowed me to think you were dead, that I had _killed _you for _years_!"

"I….dn't….wt…yo…..t…di'"

The Morningstar shook his head _"Id rather dye a thousand deaths then be locked back in that cage!" _

His admission had shocked his three brothers, shocked his Father, and he gave one final squeeze before letting the Messenger drop to the ground under him, landing in a heap on the dusty floor hacking as air once again filled his lungs. A bruise was already forming around the Messengers throat.

They watched the Morningstar shake his head, a haunted look taking over his eyes, and he took a step away from them as he curled back up again.

"But it was _never _that _easy!_ It was so _small_, so _hot, _so _alone_." He shivered at the mere thought of it "And you all threw me in like I was a monster. Some…Some deranged _beast_!" he pulled at his blonde hair and shook his head again "I don't even _remember_ what I did! I don't _know_! All there was—was—was _darkness_ and that _laugh_! One minute I was sitting in my room and the next….the _next _Michael was breaking my wings and calling me a monster!"

"You don't _remember _going to the Garden?" Michael stepped forward now, his tone was soft, confused, and he looked towards his Father for clarification. The Morningstar interrupted Him before He could speak, drawing their attention back to him "I r_emember _The Garden. I remember being so _angry _and I didn't know why, I was just so _angry_. I wanted revenge for _something_. I just wanted to hurt _Him_ as much as I could."

"Hush, My son." He pet a hand over the blond archangels soft hair and he fell silent at the soft command, "I fear a grave mistake has been made. A grace mistake that has had _unimaginable _repercussions."

"What, Father?"

He hummed, looking much sadder then they had ever seen Him, even more so then when they had been tasked with locking Aunt away.

"You brother is not a monster. Not in the slightest. Despite what we have pushed him to be."

He looked down to the broken archangel with regret in His eyes.

"Your Aunt. She was not…_agreeable_…thus She sought vengeance for Her imprisonment. And in Her vengeance, She slowly broke away the pieces of the Morningstar that we all knew. You brother did not turn so much as he was molded, and I was too blinded in My grief at Her loss that I did not see it and instead punished him for My mistake." He stroked a hand down the back of His son's head, "I have wronged you so horribly, My Morningstar, so _horribly_, and there is not a single way appropriate enough for Me to apologize."

"Can you fix me?" His poor son looked so broken "Make me, _me_, again?"

"Yes."


	216. Torture

"You see that?"

Bright eyes stared up at him and it made his heart soar at the sight of them, this particular messenger touched them all, wormed his way into all their hearts, and he planted himself there and made himself a home. The Morningstar turned to look at the sealed door with gusto, adding playful dramatics to their encounter, and the messenger snorted under him.

"Your master has abandoned you to your fate."

"Or he thinks I'm strong enough to stand you."

He turned back, eyes narrowed, and tilted his head, "Do you _think _you're strong enough to stand up to me?"

"You don't scare me!"

The Morningstar chuckled at the young messenger, yanking his legs down by his ankles, stepping up between them to leaned forward, against the side of the desk, to press their foreheads together.

"Not _yet _I don't." he kissed him on the nose "Shall we get started you mini troublemaker?"

Zaves smiled, leaning forward to lick his nose, and he smiled wider.

"I think you're ready." He sat back up, still leaning against the desk, and reached for the buttons that did up the front of the messengers top. "We don't need this being in our way."

The messenger immediately began giggling as he slowly undid every button, and he smiled endearingly at the sound, and looked down to him "We haven't even had any fun yet and you're already losing it?" he set the ends of the tunic aside and leaned forward over his quivering belly "Ready to beg for my forgiveness?"

"Bring it on!"

"With pleasure."


	217. Unconcious

When he slept, there was two types of nights he could have; one being where he would sleep peacefully, curled up on his side as he did when he was just a little fledgling, blissfully unaware of the world around him, or their was the other sort, where he would be haunted by deeds of the past, pains that weren't really being afflicted, when old scars ached more then usual, and his mind was too fast to slow down enough to sleep more then a few hours.

And beside him, his sentry would watch over him, ready to intervene when the need arose, as was the reason he had made it so he was to stay with him. Healing was aided by overcoming, and that's what he was doing, and sometimes it required the help of others and there was plenty who were more then happy to help.

He knew immediately what sort of night it would be.

Seated at his desk, sifting through the page on the ones who had decided to be sorted into his flock, the Prince looked up at the sound of rustling fabric. It caught him by surprise for a moment, so immersed into the task at hand, and the silence that had settled over his room had been like a warm blanket around his shoulders, the other having long since settled into sleep.

But there he was, fingers curled tightly into the blanket that lay across his scarred body, his face scrunched up as a child's does when in the midst of something horrifying that none others can witness with them.

He stands from behind his desk when the hand curled tight in the blanket jerks, and steps around his desk quickly when a low moan escapes his lips, sitting on the edge of the bed he manages to catch the fist before it can jerk again too harshly.

Pulling it up, he presses his lips to the smooth skin of the back, and calls to him in as gentle a tone he can manage "'Reel, wake up, you're having a bad dream, it is not real." He looks up over the hand, still bowed with it pressed to his mouth, and attempts to rouse him gently with words instead of action, shaking him would only lead to more panic, and that was the last thing either of them needed, "Follow my voice, little warrior, come back to me."

A solid minute passes before his eyes, and he watches those features with careful detail, waiting for him to respond as he always does.

His eyes shoot open, wide and terrified, darting around as though overtaken by the sudden change of environment and the Archangel knows where his mind takes him, he knows with only one guess, and it breaks his heart to know that the only one to blame for such terror is he, himself. After what seems like a lifetime, those eyes stop looking around his room for others to jump from the shadows to return to enacting whatever evil they had been committing.

His voice helps to settle him into the reality around him.

"Are you with me?"

His eyes finally meet his, and he gives him a gentle smile, finally pulling the hand away from his lips. The younger angel nods slowly, as though exhausted from the exertion, and he wouldn't be surprised if that rang more true then could be imagined.

"I am…I am free."

"That you are, and have been for some time, were you trapped again?"

He nods, fingers curling around to grip the elders, and he allows his grip, returning it in kind. Talking through it is not to be meant as a way to force him into reliving his terror, but it serves something greater, talking through it allows them to break it down again.

"I was….I was in a cell….I could hear them coming."

"Their footsteps echoing?"

The younger nods, "I was curled in my corner. I saw the whip. The reflection of the whip." His eyes glistened with unshed tears "It _hurts_! I don't w_ant _it. _Please_."

"Look about you, my little one, look closely."

The archangel holds his hands up, his free hand spread wide, and his hand that holds the others curled slightly as to not break the grip.

"What do you see?"

His eyes turned, looking over his shoulders "Books.", his elder nods, "And?" he looks in another direction "And papers. A lamp." He nods again "Look closer, now." His eyes turn to his hands "Hands."

"Very good, no whip?"

The retired sentry shakes his head, "No, no whip."

"What else happened, little one?"

Fingers curl tighter around his and he pressed the back of his hand to his lips again. It takes him a moment to collect his thoughts and his elder waits patiently.

"It hurt. It _hurt_. It bit into me, he laughed when I cried out, his laugh…I always hear it…It never leaves me. I begged him to s_top _and he only _laughed_."

Michael tugs on his hand "Gadreel, come back to me." He waited until their eyes met again "Does your back hurt?"

Gadreel nods, the ache is deep, and it radiates through him like a wave does, and sometimes he needs someone to rub the ache away. He never has to ask though, something that brings him much happiness, as his older brother always asks for him.

"Turn over them, gentle now," he stands as he helps his younger brother turn to lay on his stomach, "Over with you." As he turned, the archangel resisted the urge to inhale sharply, as he always did when he rubbed the ache out of his younger brothers ruined back.

The scars covered his back like hundreds of silvery pink snakes. It was a brutal reminder of a mistake that had cost so much, a reminder of all the pain he had caused, the pain that one being had to submit themselves to because of his temporary blindness. The skin was jagged and bumpy, skin having healed oddly over strips that should have been stitched closed, a large spider web covering every inch. He traced a finger over a particularly long one, smooth and finely done, from the edge of a blade carving a rune that had since been lost by the weaving of the spiders web.

Gadreel shivered when his finger strayed too close to his side, and he smiled to himself, it was heartwarming to know that even under all the blemishes and the horrid past, there was still one gentle way to bring him to brighter times.

He pressed the palms of his hands on either side of his spine, and dug in lightly, feeling the muscles under his fingers relax from their tension. He kneaded his hands down to his lower back, pressing away the ache where it hid under the skin, and he heard the other give the tiniest sigh of relief. He leans forward, pressing his hands into his shoulders, where the scars overlap, an attempt to get him to reveal his wings that went without success, and he feels him fall limp under his touch.

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" he falls still for a moment, looking up to the back of his brothers head, "For what?"

"Interrupting you."

"Nonsense. I'm tired of reading through those files anyway. Honestly," he leans back into his massage, pressing the heels of his hands into the shoulders, "There is far too much paper work around here."

"I am broken."

He shakes his head as he leans into his hands again "You are cracked, but not broken, healing comes with time."

"I don't deserve your kindness."

Michael falls still again "You did not deserve my cruelty." He smiled when the younger shifted into him, pressing closer to his hands, and he began his administrations again.

They fall into silence for a moment.

"You treat me like I am your charge."

"You are too old to have a guardian."

He nods, curling into his pillow, his eyes fluttering closed as the warm hands rub the ache from his beaten back.

"But yes, you are my charge, unofficially of course."

"Again?"

"Always."


	218. Vulnerable

It catches them by surprise, when both Messenger and Commander meet in the training field for the first time, both with the intent to have their own legions train together to strengthen the bond between them, when the Captains of both sides refuse to meet each other's eyes.

Their friendship had weathered many storms and pulled through it unscathed, but perhaps this time was different, after all, the Fall and following war had broken apart the strongest bond that Heaven had ever known. Nisroc treated the young messenger as though he was a younger brother, he was one of the few who had been allowed under the messengers guard, to get close enough to truly call him a friend. Zaveriel looked up to the Power, not merely in their difference in height, and their fighting style were similar in dance. They worked better then most of their legions combined together, covering each other where they were weakest.

But now they refused to even look at the other.

Gabriel and Michael exchanged looks in silence before gesturing to pair them off together to begin their sparring.

Of course, they had paired their two Captains together, perhaps in the hope that the spar might relieve the tension that had grown between them.

Zaves flinched.

It caught them all by surprise, for all of his cockiness and flippant attitude, he ducked, he _flinched _away from the Power's raised hand. The sparing came to a halt as the others turned in their surprise to stare at him, their Archangels staring in similar fashion, and the Power recoiled as if it was he whom had been struck.

"Did you just… Did you just _flinch _away from me?" his voice seemed to come in and out of his control, wavering with emotion, and he looked between his raised hand to the messenger before him "Like…. Like I was going to _strike _you?"

The messenger felt his face heat up from shame and embarrassment, looking up to the older one immediately, his features curled into an angry sneer "_No_! Why…. Why would I do _that_!"

"Zaves, I would _never _strike you."

He was taken aback at the hateful glare he received, "Oh, but, my _friend_, you _have_." Without prompting, the messenger tugged the leather belt he wore loosely around his waist away and tugged his tunic free. The all stared as he pulled it up to reveal his thin frame, perhaps a bit too thin, and the Messenger felt his chest tighten, the Power stared at it, the thick jagged pale line that travelled a course from his left collar bone down across to his right hip, and he gestured to the bumpy scar "_This_. _This _is no ones fault but _yours. _This was done by _your _hand."

"I—I would _never—"_

"Oh, but you _did_, when you left me there. Left me there, _alone_, at their _questionable _mercy."

He rubbed a hand over the protruding scar "_This _is because I _dared _to _look at him_." He yanked his tunic back down, raising a finger as if to jab it in the taller angel's chest, but held back, "So _excuse me _if I _flinch _a little when our eyes _meet_."

"If I had known—"

"_That_," he laughed, a nasty laugh, a spiteful laugh "That's the _funny_ part. You _all _knew what was going on there. Or did you _not hear _the _screams _of the prisoners every time you brought a new victim to their end?"

Zaveriel waved a hand around him, wildly in the air, "_Look around you! _How _many _refuses to meet your gaze? How _many _turn away when they see you all coming? How _many _do you see _flinch _away from you?" he let his arm drop to his side "Look at them all. The factions turn their backs on you when you come near. The Choir shiver in fear and pain at the mere mention of _any _Power. The fledglings break into sobs at your presence. Little Akeelah, she holds herself at a distance, a protection in case this _illusion _breaks and she needs to bolt again."

This time he did poke him in the chest, a harsh jab, "You may not have our _blood _on your hands, but they are _not _clean."


	219. Woozy

"Hey." Haniel's head poked through his bedroom door, causing him to look up at the sudden intrusion, and turn away from cleaning his boots "You _may _want to come see this?"

"What is it?"

He rubbed at the back of his head, taking on an expression of confusion "I'm a—Not really sure how to explain it—you just have to come see it."

The Captain raised an eyebrow, but nodded, and set his boots aside to follow his brother from his room to wherever he was needed. Haniel gestured for him to follow, leading him down the hall, four bare feet padding softly across warm stone floors, and he was led to their lounging room. The others stood in a semi-circle, watching whatever had caught the attention of Heaven's fiercest legion, Abraxos and Puriel stepped to the side at his arrival, allowing him to step up and see what the matter was.

Both eyebrows rose this time.

"_How _did he even get _out _there?"

There, sitting on the edge of the great windowsill of the Pavilion was the runt of a messenger who had created such a spectacle the other week during their combined training, he was leaning back on his hands, staring out at whatever had caught _his _attention, swinging his legs back and forth as though sitting precariously on the edge of a mountain was not something to be leery of.

Titus shook his head, completely mystified "We don't…We _don't _even _know_."

"Well, I mean, the window opens." They all turned to look at Haniel, and the second after the Captain raised an amused eyebrow, "You've all lived here _how _long and you _didn't _even know the windows _opened?_"

"How do _you _know?" not that it was important at the moment, but the Captain was curious, raising his own eyebrow once more with his brother merely shrugged, "I like to sit out there too."

"I'm friends with two crazies." Nisroc stepped passed his laughing friend, towards the cracked window, and pulling it open with a grip on the pane of moveable glass. It opened inward, and he wondered how he managed to get himself up here and then out there without alerting any of them.

The Captain leaned out onto the windowsill outside, "What are you _doing_?"

"Taking in the view."

"I can see that." He shook his head, "You can't do that from the inside?"

He finally turned to look at the older angel, and he quickly took note of the bags under the youngers eyes, his eyebrows furrowing in concern at the depth of them. Zaveriel grinned at him, a bit dilariously, and gestured to the clear sky.

"Look at it Nis. Ain't it beautiful?"

"It is just as wonderful from the other side of the glass."

The messenger looked a bit put out "You're no fun, Nis." And curled in on himself.

"So I've been told." He tried to wave him closer but the messenger didn't budge "Are you alright?"

"Of course not, what a stupid question, I can't sleep at night. My chest aches sometimes. I'm so freaking lonely. I haven't slept in like _four _days."

"You w_hat?"_

"Oh, don't be such a mother hen!"

"I am _not _a 'mother hen', as you put it."

He ignored, of course, Haniel's objection to that statement. Gesturing for the messenger to cross over to him with a wave of his hand "Come in, now."

"I like it out here, though."

"Are you too scared to?"

Despite the rift that had grown between them, the Power still knew how to get the messenger to play along with him, the younger could never stand being issued a challenge, and he knew this to still be true when the messengers head snapped around to stare at him with wide attentive eyes.

"I'm _not _scared."

"Prove it, then."

The messenger moved, turning to crawl towards the open window, towards the older Power, "_I'll prove it!" _not seeming to notice the way the elder positioned himself at the entrance, bracing himself with his knee, waiting for the moment he was close enough, and the messenger blinked in surprise as he was hauled over his shoulder.

Nisroc stood, curling his right arm around the messengers legs, and closed the window with his left hand. The others looked amused at his predicament as he passed them, but they went ignored, especially Haniel's laughter. Zaveriel didn't struggle against him, a testament to just how much his sleep deprivation overpowered his anger at him, and he turned into his room with their silence covering them like a warm blanket.

"What're we doin', Nis?"

"Going to sleep."

"But Imma not sleepy."

"Sure, you aren't, and I'm not a Captain."

He felt the messenger tilt his head, his shoulders moved with it, "But you are, Nis."

"I know. I was being sarcastic. Something," he ducked to pull him from over his shoulder and drop him onto his bed "You would know if you weren't so tired."

The messenger scooted over for him when he turned to lay next to him on his bed, and the Power didn't move even an inch as the messenger curled around him, clinging to his arm as a child does a stuffed toy, and he turned to look when he felt a cool nose press to him.

"I'm _so _tired."

"Then go to sleep."

The nose brushed against his arm as he shook his head "I can't, Nis."

"Why?"

"Because _every _time I do, I go right back _there_."

He felt guilt settle into his stomach, and he reached over to ruffle his hair lightly with his free hand "But you're not there anymore. You're with me. Right where you belong."

"And you'll be there when I wake up?"

"Always, my friend."

"Good."

Sleep came over his friend quickly, he felt his breathing even out against his arm, his grip in his arm falling lax, though he didn't uncurl from him. Nisroc smiled at the ceiling of his room as he allowed his eyes to fall shut too.

Perhaps a nap would do them both some good.

Their friendship wasn't nearly where it had been before both of their betrayals, both their breaking it, but it was a step in the right direction.


	220. Experiment

Part of their sentencing was the victims of their crimes being allowed to address their tormenter, thus it was among tense silence that the mindbreaker was sat on the cold metal chair in the center of the Throne Room, her chains and shackles rattling with every step she took. None wanted to confront her at first, choosing to stay in the safety of the other's shadows, away from the one who had stolen so much from them, stolen things they had not remembered her stealing.

The first one to step forward was the messenger, taking a deep breath to steel himself, he stepped out from behind his Master and away from the side of the Power that stood next to him, as the legions had gathered behind their commanders. He came to stand at the front of their Father's throne, staring at the mindbreaker in heated silence, he looked down for a moment as he reached into his robe for something hidden underneath. Michael sat up straighter at the object he pulled free, throwing it down to the mindbreakers feet, and she flinched as it clapped harshly against the stone floor.

A crown of spikes for them all to see.

They were permitted to speak to them, share their words with the accused, but not permitted to touch. As much as the Host believed some deserved physical retribution, Father was firm in the matter, they may be sentenced for crimes against Him and Heaven, but they would not stoop to their same level in acting out of character.

"Don't forget to take this with you when you leave us."

Many were surprised at the sight of the accursed object, the Prince having had them all melted down for weapons to protect their family with, to give the holy metal another purpose, and to see that one remained was shocking. It was clear, by the look on the archangel's face, that he was just as surprised to see the contraption as the others were, but then, the young messenger kept more things to himself then most knew.

"It can be your reminder of what you had given everything for."

He nodded, satisfied with his ending, and turned to step back behind his master. Gabriel sat up a bit straighter, though it went without voicing on his part, the pride for his captain shone bright in his golden eyes.

Father nodded, and they all turned to watch as one of her youngest victims stepped forward, the Power holding him securely in his arms, young eyes peeked out from the crook of his neck.

"I forgive you for what you did." Others inhaled sharply at the younglings admission "But that doesn't mean that I forgot it. I hope you live lonely forever. I'm happy now. And you'll just be forgotten about."

A fledgling looked over her, an icy look, similar to the one her master wore, perched up on the Morningstar's knee.

"You're an asshole and got what you deserved, mindbreaker."

The Archangel pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. The fledgling nodded once, in finality, her part being said in wholly, and she sat back to lean against the archangels chest.


	221. Adrenaline

She struggled under the weight of her friend, carrying only his top half, as he was taller than she was and she was still so small, leaving the other half to drag in the snow behind them. The slush and broken ice of the lake behind them, she shivered harshly against the chill and the wind, tugging him along, as best as she could as her climb was slowed by the packing snow.

There were plenty of times when she collapsed with him, falling to her knees, falling completely to her belly, but every time, she would bite back a scream of pain at the frozen daggers digging into her small frame and push herself, albeit shakily, back to her feet again.

Her braids were frozen, she could feel them scratching against the back of her neck, and there came plenty of moments, when she did fall into the snow under her, that she wanted to just lay there and be taken. It hurt, to continue on trudging through the snow, it burned, which was odd in her mind, considering it was cold snow, and she couldn't understand how _cold snow _could _burn_.

But she vowed to herself, she would save her friend this time. Zaveriel had saved her the last time they had been caught up a frozen situation, and with him as the unconscious one, she would do everything in her power to be the one to save him this time around.

The fledgling stumbled along for what felt like lifetimes, until she could move no longer, and with one final push she fell forward into the cold snow underneath her. The burning had gone away some steps ago, and now everything was just numb, her frozen eyelashes caught the white snowflakes as she stared ahead of her, wanting to keep marching on but not able to force her little body to any further.

There were blurry figures running towards them, in thick furs and leather, she felt her friend being lifted away, and something warm curl around her as she too was lifted from the cold snowy ground she lay on. Large hands pressed her to a warm body, curling her within a thick furry cloak for added warmth, and she titled her head up weakly, white-covered little eyelashes fluttering in exhaustion, and the blurry face slow, ever so slowly, came into view.

"N—Ni'?"

"W... H're…. Li'….'ne…'tay….'ith….'e…..'ow…."

She could vaguely feel him running, the jostle of his arms as he sprinted as fast as he could, to give them enough momentum to rocket into the air. Silvery wings fluttered in her peripheral vision, and the air around her hissed as they jetted into the ethereal plane, she turned her head against his chest, eyes just barely able to peek out from over the edge of his thick cloak, to see other more blurry figures soaring through the plane with them.

With her job complete, her friend having been found, both of them in safe hands, the fledgling finally let unconsciousness take her too.

…

The first thing that welcomes her back to the real world is the soft rustling sounds of multiple persons moving about, the bustling of the Infirmary drawing her from the world of darkness, and back into the present. Her eyelashes flutter open slowly, her head's turned to the side, and she sees a healer in soft pink robes bending to rub at the forehead of a bedbound warrior just two beds away from her. The second thing that welcomes her is the warmth, warmth from all around, it's under her, it above her, is at her sides, she warm where freezing had been before. From head to toe. The softness of a thick blanket rubs over her cheek when she gives the slightest of nods, and it immediately follows with the third welcoming back to reality, someone has undone her braids, she feels the fingers running through her slightly tamed curls stop their petting for a moment.

The healer in the soft pink robes sit up straighter, turning to gather up the basin of water, and their eyes meet. She gives a soft gasp of surprise, speaking words that fall on her deaf ears, its like she's still underwater, still swimming as best as she can for her unconscious friend, after having jumped into the icy waves after he'd fallen in.

"Kee'h?" someone's calling her name, she tilts her head ever so slightly again, looking down at her small hand pressed against a pale surface, a pale chest, "Akeelah, can you hear me?"

The fledgling want's to respond, but she can't take her eyes away from her hand, what's supposed to be her hand, but has turned into a lump of thick white bandages. Fingers curl around the back of her head, soft and gentle, and it pulls her away from her trance. Slowly she sits up, just slightly, to turn her head around to look at the other side.

Bright blue eyes greet her this time, concerned and elated in the same light, a warm hand presses to her forehead and she gives a soft little sigh.

"Can you hear me, little one?"

She licks her chapped and split lips, opening her mouth to speak, and it takes a few tries for the words to come out "Ra…...'aph…...Ra..Ra?"

"I guess that's better then I could ask for." The Healer brushes the backs of his fingers over her cheek, "Hang on a moment, I'll get you something to drink." He cups her cheek for a breath and steps away. Those fingers return to petting through her curls and she sighs, her eyes fluttering again, but she manages to fight off the darkness, she does not want to go back to sleep again.

A finger strokes down the bridge of her nose in a familiar way, and she presses her bandaged hand on this side of her head into the chest as much as she can "'uc…'uci….?"

"I'm here, my little nightingale, I'm right here."

She knows its him who she's laying on, and it brings her comfort knowing that her struggle is over, he's here now and he will make sure that everything is okay. He always makes everything all better again. And he's warm.

The Healer returns with a small steaming cup of warm water, it burns slightly as she drinks from it, his hand under her chin to catch any drops that might escape, but it's so refreshing, it burns and washes away the burn at the same time, and she greedily wants more that he is happy to fetch for her. Two and a half cups later, she's cut off, and sleep pulls too strongly for her to fight off this time.

…

Confusion is what catches him for the first moment of his waking. His eyes flutter open slowly, focusing immediately on the white bandaged hand laying just before his eyes, and right under it is tan skin of a bare chest.

The last thing his mind remembering being the crash into the freezing water, the darkness that quickly overtook him, it doesn't come as a surprise when he doesn't know where he is for a moment, who's body he is laying pressed against, and he sluggishly struggles.

Fingers stop petting through his hair, "Za'….'aves…'t….O'ay….'t….Gabe…." but he knows that voice, he knows that name, he recognizes that ring around the hand that curls over his bandage wrapped one "..'a…..'a'e…Ga'….G'be…"

"It's me kiddo, I'm right here, settle back down for me."

A hand pets the back of his head, pulling him closer again, adjusting the blanket back over his shoulders. Bright blue eyes meet his, someone's kneeling at his bedside, _familiar _bright blue eyes, and his bandaged hand slides just a millimeter as he reaches for him "…'a…'ap…..R'pha….." two large, nimble hands, close around his bandaged one, lips pressing to the top, he can't feel them but he can see them, "I am here, my little messenger, I am right here." He turns slightly, for a small steaming mug he has set on the side table, "Take a few sips, for me?" Zaves nods as best as he can, which is barely a twitch, and opens his mouth only slightly to allow the warm water entrance, a hand sliding under his other cheek to catch the water that spills out.

His throat burns a bit, it hurts to breath some, but the warm water helps moisten what was dried "...'aph….R'pha….H'ppn'd?"

"We were hoping one of you could tell us." He pets a hand through his hair tenderly, smiling in that way he does when his patients feel safe enough around him to show how truly exhausted, they feel, and his eyes flutter again, "Later though, sleep for now."

…

When they both wake up again, its turned dark into night, candles flicker around their beds, around the beds of those not well enough to leave the infirmary. Akeelah knows that she's still laying on her choir master, his chest rises and falls steadily under her bandaged hands, she's still turned inwards, her eyes meet those of her friends, and she gives a small relieved smile, something he returns in favor.

Her eyes move upwards, to see the Messenger holding onto her friend much like her own master does for her, he's sleeping, or appears to be anyway, his fingers sluggishly scratching at the back of the young messengers neck. His eyes are closed though, and he's rested his chin on his dampened hair, he's either sleeping or close to falling off. She's never seen a messenger sit so still, especially _the _Messenger, so she knows how scared he must have been when he'd been told of what had happened, what they knew of what happened anyway.

There's talking, she can hear soft words being shared, and her eyes move from her friend's and the Messenger, to the source of the hushed conversation. She sees them, her vision no longer blurry, she's slept enough for it to have cleared, and she sees three figures.

The one she knows immediately, the same dark tone as her, curls brushed back around his ears, the golden ring around the one lobe shining slightly in the candlelight every time he moves his head, his bright electrifying blue eyes seem to glow in the dimness, like hers do sometimes. Raphael has his back to her, she can faintly see a dark green tunic in the flickering candlelight, "You think _what_?"

Across from him sits another, dark hair tied back, as he usually wears it. The pendant that had been made by her small hands hanging freely from the wide opening of his dark blue tunic, a ring glistening on the hand that rests stretched out on the table beside him, her eyes lock onto the sight that's so familiar, the same face that she had seen when they'd been found, the one who had reassured here that everything was going to be okay. Nisroc nodded to the Healer, rubbing at his chin with his other hand, before it returns to resting on his thigh "We _think_, not positive mind you, but we think the fledgling had carried him up that hill where they had been found. The lake below was broken, the ice shattered, the surrounding area of the break soaked completely, and the snow was matted as though something had been dragged up that hill. There is no doubt in my mind, that, that little fledgling in that bed over there, dragged her friend all the way up that hill before she couldn't carry on anymore." He made a hand motion towards her, too caught in his conversation to notice the eyes staring at him, "The only one with the wound to the back of the head to indicate hitting the ice itself was the messenger."

And then there's the one between them, back to the table adorned with tall thick candles, his arms crossed loosely over his chest, leaning back in his chair as she knows him to do. Dark wavy hair standing up in a naturally wild way, his own dark blue eyes shining in the flickering light of the candles he sits directly before. Michael looks between the two of them as they talk "You mean to say that this _little _fledgling carried _him _up that hill. Raphael, is that even possible, she is mighty, yes, but to drag someone twice her size and soaking wet up a hill of that size?"

"It's not entirely impossible, as completely out of minds reach as it may be, she would have been running on pure adrenaline. Human hikers have been known to break bones and still walk on them for hours before the trauma of the injury catches up to them, especially in life or death situations. If humans can do it, I have no doubt in my mind, that a fledgling _angel _could manage it."

"That is not all though."

They both turned to the Power, "From what Abraxos saw of the lake, there was only one hole, from where someone fell into it and broke the ice. The rest was splintered but still intact." He made a gesture towards her silent friend, he too listening to their conversation, "With Zaves being the only one with the wound to the back of his head, it is in our opinion that he was the one who fell in. It explains why he was so utterly soaked through, but that does not explain the Baby Powers soaking."

"You mean to say that she fell in too?"

"I mean to say, from what was seen, it stands more in the way that she _jumped _in for her friend. From what I was told, Abraxos said there was a clear sign of a struggle around the hole, the ice was chipped in the manner that someone was using it as a leverage of some sort, perhaps as she slowly pulled her friend from the freezing water."

"You think she actually _jumped_?"

"Come now, Raphael," Michael turned to look at the Healer, absorbing the words of his Captain as they had been spoken, "You've seen how fearless our fledgling is. Is it so hard to believe that she would not do something so brave as to _jump in _to save her friend?"

The Healer shook his head lightly "More like something so _foolish._" But he nodded to his elder brothers point "I concede though. It is not too outlandish to think she would do something like that, she loves dearly and fiercely, she has shown more then once that she is willing to do anything for those who she considers to be her friends."

The Prince nodded, taking a more serious look, uncrossing his leisurely position across his chest, and curled his fingers instead down over his knees "But more so on an important note," he turned to look at his Power "Was it the same demons as before?"

"It's hard to say, sir, they had already been gone for some time when we had finally found them. I am under no impression that she managed that trek in a short span of time, no matter how mighty the Baby Power may be, and it is a regret that they were found so late." Nisroc nodded, a serious light haven taken over his eyes "Haniel and Puriel are investigating as we speak though. To find out what exactly happened. Until one of them are able to tell us. We may never truly know."

Raphael rubbed a hand over his shoulder, she saw his own ring, despite how faint it was in the shadows behind him "I don't think it safe for them to be going down on their own for the time being."

Beside him, Michael nodded in agreement, "Agreed, brother." He turned to his Power in turn, "Nisroc, I trust you and the Powers will be able to escort them there and back."

"With honor, sir." Nisroc nodded in affirmation "They may not be officially in our legion, but they are one of us in spirit and bond, we protect our own."

Zaves was staring at her, she could feel it, and she looked down to meet his gaze. It was a questioning gaze, a silent inquiry of _'did you really jump in for me?' _and she gave a slight nod, a single blink, hoping it was enough to portray her answer to him. His smile told her that it was _'thank you, my friend_' and she returned the smile _'you're welcome, my friend'. _Their gazes locked for a moment and they both shared a slight flinch _'it was the same as before'. _Zaveriel twitched his nose lightly _'they had been waiting for us'. _He could not move, not with the Messenger being still so close to the conscious world around them, whereas her masters soft snores rumbled against her ear with every breath, so she gave the slightest of nods to her friend once again.

Had her hands not been wrapped in bandages, she would have simply reached out and tugged on his tunic, the Healer was that close to her, but alas, her fingers were currently buried in a mountain of bandages. So, the fledglings only option was to reach out, her small bandaged hand sliding over the chest of her master, away from its resting position next to her head, and pressed it into the Healers back as much as she could.

He cut himself off midsentence at the pressure on his lower back, turning to see whatever it could be, bright blue eyes widened as their gazes met, and he was quick in moving to her bedside more completely. Behind him, Michael and Nisroc, sat forward as if waiting for a command to be followed and as if wanting to see for themselves that the courageous little fledgling was again.

Raphael pressed a large warm hand to her cheek, "You're awake, little bear?"

Akeelah nodded against his hand, licking her lips as she prepared to say something, and the Healer turned for the cup he had left sitting on the table side, and pressed it to her lips for her to drink, which she did so greedily.

"The same…. The same ones…. Same ones RaRa…Waiting for us…"

"You've been awake for some time." He looked amused, it would not have been the first time she had heard conversations that they had not known were being listened in on, there was much she knew that they didn't know she did "Are you sure it was the same ones?"

"Waiting RaRa…. They were there…. Waiting…"

Michael turned to look at his Captain "How is it possible any other, especially out enemy, would know that they would have been there?" he looked back to the fledgling, his eyes having gone soft for her "There was so few who knew where they were going to be."

The Captain seemed lost in thought for a moment, smiling to the fledgling when their eyes met, and she returned it as best as she could "You are a braver soul then most of those under my command, Baby Power, you are truly one of us." He turned to address his Commander "Sir, their path was closely kept, there is only one way they would have known about this. The first time was a coincidence. But the second time, I think not."

"You mean to say you believe there has been someone sharing our secrets?" Michael looked alarmed, "A traitor among us."

"Sir, I am not one to point blame at others, you know this," The archangel nodded in confirmation, Nisroc looked concerned now, as their eyes met again "But there is one who I don't doubt would not be above sharing such things with those that would mean us harm."


	222. Hazing

**AN: I know most of these are when she's a fledgling, and they're mostly going to stay that way for a while, cause, you know, childhood is long and adventurous, but I wanted to dabble in a few of them when she's older. So, in this one, her and Sasha are young teenagers, and everyone's age is adjusted accordingly.**

There was a major difference between the training field as a small fledgling and the training field when one has chosen the flock, they wish to live in. Though, perhaps this particular trainee was a bit different than the usual one was; having grown under the tutelage of the four archangels combined, having trained under the Powers since such a young age, having lived through a war that had consumed much of the early decades of their life.

No one missed the sparkle of pride in the archangel's eyes as he welcomed her to his ranks, officially, the daggers he'd gifted her when she turned old enough to participate in the choosing glistening from their place tucked into the straps of her boots. None missed the way the Powers cheered that particular young one as she stepped up to join the others who had chosen the life of a warrior. It was hard to miss the one messenger, at his masters side, hooting and hollering his congratulations.

After the excitement of the day had worn down, they were shown to their barracks by two of the Powers, the true colors of some of the other trainees began to show themselves. Sasha chose the bunk above hers, so that they may know their neighbor instead of having to start awkward conversation with someone new, and they exchanged quiet smiles as they climbed into their beds for a nights rest before training began early the next morning.

They were woken long before the rest of the other barracks were, hands tugging the young man out from his place in the top bunk, painfully crashing to the floor underneath him, cold water splashing on the young lady's face, startling her into immediate wakefulness.

"What have we here?"

A voice called out to them, as Sasha struggled to get back to his feet, his back aching from the impact on the hard-stone flooring, and Akeelah was wiping the water out of her eyes when it made them burn lightly from mere touch.

"A runt raised by the Commander himself, and another raised by the Captain, you may get special treatment from them on the training field, but in here, here we rule the roost."

Akeelah was the first to recover, glaring over her fingers at the other youngling that stood before them, arms crossed over his chest, standing as though he was superior then they were. She may be small, small for her age, but she was just as fierce as the rest of them, and she sprung up from her bunk with a swiftness only seen in a messenger and jabbed a finger into his chest in challenge.

"You're in charge of nobody. You just as much in charge as we all are. The only one who has any say over us is Nisroc."

"And what about when he's not here?" the other smacked her finger away "When he's not here, _I'm _in charge, _runt_."

A hand on her shoulder had her stopping mere moments before she plowed her curled fist into his nose, "Akeelah, no." she turned to meet her friends eyes over her shoulder, Sasha shook his head, "He's not worth it. You know he doesn't tolerate infighting among his flock of trainees." It was in their luck that they had been sorted under Nisroc's tutelage during training, though they both had a feeling that the Captain had taken a certain amount of pull to get them there, there was no doubting the argument that had been had between the band of brothers on who their youngest 'members' would fall under for official training. They had no doubt that Nisroc had pulled rank, something he did not do ordinarily, but did so when he felt that it called for it, and it would have ended the argument with him as victor.

He _had _looked rather smug when he'd called on them to join his legion of trainees.

Akeelah nodded, unclenching her fist, and began to turn back to her bunk to clear away the soaked blankets.

"Since we've all apparently decided to wake at this hour, perhaps, we should begin our morning."

The Captains voice had them all jumping, turning to spot him in the door way, donned in his tunic and trousers, pant legs tucked into his boots, the two of them remembered in that moment just how much of an early riser he was (which helped him gain the position he held) and knew immediately that he must have heard the commotion and come to investigate.

There was various noises of protest, there being a good three hours of sleep that could be had still, but he clapped his hands and they rushed to pull on their boots in his stead. He stepped aside as they raced out the door, stopping the last two with an arm stretched across the entrance, they had some concerns of them joining the ranks. It was common knowledge who had raised the two of them, and they had all worried that it might come to cause them trouble.

"What happened?"

Sasha and Akeelah exchanged quick looks though, shaking their heads in unison, as they turned to meet his gaze again "Nothing, Sir."

He heaved a sigh, but nodded, moving his arm to let them follow after their class. At a more leisured pace, he followed after them, only stopping at the door of the third years when a single soul stepped out "Keep a close eye. Something is happening."

"Yes, Nis."

The Power smiled, rubbing a hand over Paul's shaggy curls, and ushered him back within his own barrack with a pat to his cheek as he stepped forward to join his class on the training field.

…

There was nothing like washing and resting after a hard day of training, especially on sparing days, and there was nothing more than they wanted to do than just that. Being one of the last in the washing room, a perk of being one of the few females in the corps, Akeelah paid no mind as she closed her eyes to rinse the soap from her water tamed curls. Rubbing her hands over her eyes, she reached for her towel on the edge, and wrapped it around her body warmly.

Stepping out of the washing pool, she absently reached for where her top was supposed to be draped over the back of a stone bench while she rubbed a towel over her dripping curls, but her hand met nothing but air. She reached again, leaning a bit more to the side in case it had fallen onto the actual seat, she finally looked over when her hand didn't brush over the soft fabric of her top.

Her clothes were gone.

Someone had come in, while she was washing, and taken her clothes.

There was only one name that came to mind, but Sasha's voice, like an inner conscience, talked her down from confronting him and instead she wrapped the towel more securely around herself as she stepped out into the hall that led down to her barrack.

"Sasha?"

The young man looked up at the sound of his name, eyes going wide at her undressed form, and set his book aside.

"Akeelah!"

She ignored his exclamation "Have you seen my clothes?"

"No," he stood from where he sat on her bunk, "Do you have spare in your trunk?"

"I should."

Her friend nodded, kneeling to unsnap the stops on her trunk, and threw open the top. It was empty. All of her possessions had been taken; her clothes, her book of hymns that her old master had gifted her when she'd left his Choir, her daggers, boots, everything. Sasha flinched as he looked up to her silent, still, form. Like a volcano right before it erupts.

A fourth-year trainee poked his head into their barrack "The Commander wants everyone out on the field for addressing."

The young man turned to look at his friend "You can borrow some of my clothes." But she had already looked up at the snickering from across the room, and her brow set into the given challenge, leaving her to shake her head "No. I got this."

Sasha pinched the bridge of his nose, as close friends do at their other's antics, as she secured her towel around her middle and nodded. They wanted to embarrass her, knowing full well that the Commander wanted to address his flock this afternoon, then she would show them how fearless she was. The two friends marched out together, pointedly ignoring the mystified, surprised looks from the Powers and their Archangel, at the young lady's utter lack of covering.

The archangel snapped around to share a gaze with his Captain, from whom he merely pulled a shrug from, and turned back around with confusion and concern shining in his eyes.

Akeelah shivered lightly from the lack of clothing in the cool autumn breeze, but refused to back down from her tormentors challenge, and held her chin up in sign of triumph as the Commander slowly began to address them. She could feel the eyes on her, from the front, in the form of her friends, and from behind, in the form of her tormentors. She heard a whisper from behind, an agitated whisper to another, and she smiled to herself.

…

Sasha began to worry when he dug through his trunk and didn't brush over it, nor catch sight, of the leather-bound book that had been gifted to him by his guardian when the grant had been made official. He had eons of sketches in there, some personal visions, other persons he had wanted to remember, they were all his most prized possessions.

"Akeelah?"

His friend sat up from her bunk, lowering the book she had nicked from the Healer during their last visit, and her eyes met his in question.

"Have you seen my book?"

The young lady shook her head, sitting up completely, setting the book aside as she crawled down to the end of her bunk to peer down into his trunk at the foot of their bed. She leaned on her crossed arms, over the top of a step of the latter leading to the top bunk, "Is it under your pillow?"

"No." he shook his head in denial, pulling things from his trunk in case he had simply missed the prized book by the clutter, and soon had a pile forming at his side "I moved it before inspection yesterday."

As he pulled the last item from his trunk, leaving nothing but the bare insides, he leaned over the edge and crossed his own arms. Sadness took over at the loss, his mind whirling on the matter of if he _had _moved it again but shook those thoughts away. He _had _put it in his trunk, along with his pencils, and he remembered doing so because he had wrapped it in a tunic to ensure it would all stay together.

"Akeelah, I can't find it, I've looked everywhere."

She frowned, not liking that someone had purposefully went out of their way to make her friend suffer like this and glared up at the three who had decided it was in their best interest to make their lives as difficult as they could while in the barrack between trainings.

"Not everywhere."

He looked up as she crawled out of her bunk, stolen book completely forgotten, and crossed heatedly across the barrack to the bunk that their tormentors sat on. Others turned to watch, conversations slowly drifting into silence, watching as she held her hand out to the boy.

"Give it back, Samael."

Their tormentors smirk was the only confirmation needed in the matter of who had taken it, and Sashael felt dread build in his stomach at the thought of what could have happened to his beloved book, "I have no idea what you're talking about, runt."

She stood as stiff as a statue, hand still outstretched "You know _exactly _what I'm talking about." Her glare was as heated as the archangels was known to be when someone pushed passed his limits, "_Give it back_."

"Whatever are you talking about?" Samael looked smug, he knew what they were talking of, and he smiled a bit _too _innocently at the female trainee in front of him "Give what back?"

"The book. We know you took it. No one else saw Sasha put it in his trunk, no one but you. So, give it back."

"Oh!" he nodded, a malicious light coming to his eyes "A _book_? Was it a leather-bound book? A rune molded on the front cover?"

"Yes. Give it."

"Oh, well why didn't you ask for _that_, I took it with me during washing for a bit of entertainment."

Sasha turned and bolted from her side, and her fists tightened, but he knew that even with favor that violence was not tolerated and laughed when she merely bit back her anger and turned to follow after her friend. Akeelah ran into the washroom a moment after the other hand, looking around for any sign of her friend, and ran forward when she spotted the back of his head over the top of a stone bench separating the showers from the dry space.

He knelt in a thin pool of warm water, trousers getting soaked, and she came up behind him in time to see his hands close around a soaked object.

"Sasha?"

Completely destroyed eyes turned to look up at her, lips turning as if to form words, but they were swallowed with a soft sob, as he turned to look back at his ruined possession. She knelt with him, sitting with her legs curled under her, grasping on the book with him.

"Sasha." What was there to say now, he was heartbroken, she could see it in his eyes. The book had been a gift from Nisroc when he had become his official guardian, he had kept it with him since the day he had been given it, it was his most treasured possession. "Let's tell. He'd be in his office. We can tell him what's going on."

But he shook his head, pulling the ruined book up to hug to his chest, his eyes had hardened when he looked up at her in the next moment. Something had snapped within, something that had been well managed, taught to keep under tamed fingers, but he let it go. This had been too far, it had pushed him too far, and it was personal.

"No. We do this on our end." He grabbed her hand tightly, "If they want to give us Hell, then we'll give them Hell in return."

…

"What in Heavens _name _was that?"

Abraxos was furious, as he turned between watching the healer patch the young boy up, and then to the ones who had meant to have his sides during the group sparring match. Blood was spilling from his nose as though it was a pipe of water that had burst, the strike from their opponent had clearly broken it, and broken it rather extensively.

It only served to anger him more when the smug light flitted across the young lady's eyes as she stared at their supposed partner.

"You were to have him covered!"

"I slipped."

"No." he waved a hand before him, cutting the young one-off midsentence "You deliberately stepped to the side, I _watched _you, you _allowed _your opponent to pass and get that strike in."

"I don't c_are _what it looked like to you!" she raised her voice in return, her grip on her daggers tightened as she took a step forward, they didn't know it, of course, but Samael had gotten what was coming to him. "I'm _telling _you that I _slipped_."

The Power raised a finger to her, pointing it sternly in her face, well aware of the leniency that was being shown, had any other recruit spoken back to him like that they would have immediately been sent to their Mentor for such disrespect "Don't you _ever _use that tone with me, young lady." Abraxos gestured to her grip on her weapons, "And you had better loosen that grip, _right_ now."

Akeelah's chin raised in defiance, something that had always gotten her into trouble the past, her fearlessness was her greatest strength and her greatest flaw "Then _don't _make assumptions that have no fact value."

"You are walking a _fine _line, missy."

"I step over your stupid line. You _don't_ scare me!"

This time, it was the Power that took a step forward, coming to stand right before her, and he pointed to the benches on the far end of the field, and more noticeably, it was directly behind where her Mentor currently stood.

"You are _benched _from training! _Go!_"

Nisroc looked up at her walking passed him, his head turned as she completely ignored him, her grip on her weapons dangerously tight, and eyes blazing with the same fire their Commander did when he was beyond angered. He watched her for a moment, as she kicked over a bucket of drinking water, and dropped onto the bench with a glare in his brother's direction.

He was surprised when his grown charge soon followed her, having allowed the others to get passed him, plowing the hilt of their training swords into the noses of Samael's friends. He watched his charge take a seat next to their Baby Power (though she had clearly outgrown the nickname—she would never truly outgrow it), leaning in to whisper something to her, and an ill-meant smile slowly spread over her features.

The Captain would speak to his soldier on the matter later, after the sun had set and the trainees had returned to their barracks for the night, Abraxos would only shrug, "I don't _know _what's gotten into them. I wish I did though. That sort of behavior is not like them."

…

"I think that is _more _than _enough."_

The five of them separated at the sound of his voice, having not heard anyone come in after them, but they realized in all the wrong ways that they were not alone in the armory any longer, and their brawl ended just as quickly as it had started. Five sets of eyes widened in surprise and horror at the sight of their Captain standing there, his arms crossed over his chest, eyes as hard as stone. There was only two of them that remembered that particular look from their young age, nothing in his training methods had changed, he was still the most hands-on Mentor there was to be had.

"The _five _of you to my office, _now_."


	223. Scrabbling

He was known to do stupid things, well, in his opinion they were great ideas, it was just in other peoples minds that they were stupid idea, and watching as his master was hit over the head with the hilt of a sword and he was sent tumbling over the edge of the cliff they were currently battling on, it sent him into overdrive.

They had just got him back, they weren't ready to lose him again, and he wasn't sure if he was strong enough to take command of the messengers again.

So Zaveriel did the next best thing that came to mind, he threw his daggers to the side, starting in an immediate sprint, he dodged blows and swipes and jumped over the edge of the cliff. There were yells from behind, as others watched both archangel and captain disappear, but they went ignored.

His sole focus was on the limp body of his archangel tumbling down the rocky surface. How he managed to catch up to it is a mystery, but he managed to snake an arm around the Messengers midsection, in some mysterious way, the Messenger was much bigger then his arm was in length, he wasn't sure how he managed it, but he wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth either.

They were quickly approaching the shear drop off, he could see it coming up quickly, and he reached out with his free hand for purchase. He felt the skin on his palm, his fingers, his entire hand, peel off bit by bit and he had to bite his tongue to keep from crying out. Blood mixed with sand soon enough, the evidence of his torn hand, he grit his teeth and dug his fingers into the hard surface, anything to catch himself, to stop their descent towards the drop off.

Their weight combined, of course, didn't help in slowing them down in the slightest measure. He grappled all that much more when the drop off started drawing nearer and nearer, refusing to let his master go again, he'd suffer the stripping of his palm and fingers time and time again before losing the Messenger again. The sand and stony surface was like sand paper though, and the pain in his skinned hand was beginning to get harder to ignore, and this time he did cry out in pain.

Finally, his hand caught onto a stone, curling around it to form a red ring of fingers, but it was at the last minute as they went tumbling over the edge of the cliff. He grit his teeth, his skinned hand gripping at their only catch for all that he was worth, while the other clung to the Messengers shirt as much as he could. Knowing that his strength would sooner give out in his arm, he wrapped his legs around the Messenger middle, locking his ankles together, he made a noise of alarm as his hand started slipping from above.

The blood was making the stone slick, and his grip was slipping away, quite literally.

Zaveriel grit his teeth, looking down to the archangel that hung precariously from his crossed legs and free hand gripping at his lower back.

"Gabe." He grappled to reaffirm his grip "_Now _would be a _really _great time to _wake up_."

Blood was dripping down from the crack on the Messengers temple, tripping down the hair that hung in his face, and Zaves grunted as he reaffirmed his grip on his master much easier then he did on the ledge.

"Please, Gabe, _please_." His grip was beginning to fail him, his hand was already weak from being skinned, the rock slick with his blood, he could feel his grip losing itself, thus he was not above begging. "I _need _you to _wake up_!"

There was still no response from the archangel, and he groaned as the last of his strength seemed to trickle away, like water through a stream, and his fingers gave out. Zaves curled around his archangels middle, flipping them around midfall, as if to cushion him when they made impact. He was willing to give his life for his archangel. Any member of an archangels legion as willing to give their life for their archangel.

He closed his eyes tightly, pressing himself deep into the Messengers chest, preparing for the impact that was soon to be had.

Just as he was sure they were going to hit the ground, the arms that had hung limply at his sides, curled around him tightly. Their descent was stopped so suddenly, in one great swoop of magnificent golden wings, that he went weightless for a moment, and then they began to climb upwards again. The wing beats of the Messenger echoing in his ears, he looked up, from under the Messengers chin, to see Gabriel himself looking upwards too, as he flew them back up to the mountain top.

The archangel landed smoothly on the top of the mountain, where the others stood in surprise, and had it not been for the arms curled around him at the moment, he would have fallen to the ground in shock.

A hand gently pried away his left, the one that had been skinned, undoubtedly feeling the blood seeping through the shirt.

"What happened?"

The Messenger sounded confused, as though he didn't remember what happened, and from the blow he took it most certainly wouldn't come as a surprise if he didn't.

"You got whipped over the head with a blade."

He nodded, not understanding what that had to do with the state of his young captains hand, "Okay?"

"You went over the side of the mountain."

"And what does that have to do with Za—"

"Zaves jumped over after you."


	224. Thrash

The Powers and The Principalities often, more times then not, fought side by side. It was a strange sight indeed, one being a well-trained team of warriors, under the hand of Michael himself, and the other being a legion of well-trained messengers, trained under the hand of Gabriel himself. Despite their difference in title, they were both still fierce opponents in their own right, able to hold their own individually in the most grievous circumstances.

Their Captains fought well side by side, using their strengths to cover the others weakness, Zaves fought from below the knee, being as small as he was, and aimed to decapitate his opponent while Nisroc stood nearly as tall as his Archangel did, and as such, took aim for the head. They twirled and danced to a song of their own creation, backing each other when they were distracted, a friendship as deep as blood making them nearly an unbeatable team.

The elder of the two treated the messenger as one would a younger brother, having been the first one to treat him with kindness after the messengers had been divided at the onset of the war, and thus the kindness was returned with surprising aptitude, something that was no seen during that time and had been a welcomed sight to witness. The messenger had already been on their level when it came to battle, strategic and quick-witted, he had easily kept his own with the Captain of the Powers when it came to placing the messengers sorted into their flock.

Zaveriel had been one of the few who had managed to knock the tall, fierce, Captain from his feet, managed to lay him on his back during the initial sparring match. He had fought a tad dirty, but he was resourceful in ways that they had not initially attributed to the messengers, and the Power had taken an immediate liking to the snappy, fearless little messenger. After that initial fight, from where he lay under the point of the messengers sword, he knew that underestimation was not a mistake he would willing make again.

It had also been the first time he had met an opponent who refused to let him up until he himself admitted defeat. It had stunned the other Powers, who had changed, just as they all had, in the heat of wartime, when their Captain begrudgingly admitted defeat to the runty little messenger. Zaves had taken his defeat in stride, but not egotistically, and stepped back to allow him to get back to his feet.

From then on, he had kept the messenger close.

The seed of their friendship had been planted during the devastating throws of war and had slowly but surely bloomed into something that weather many storms and had never truly broken.

It had been to the Power that the messenger had gone when his master had returned for the first time, after the end of the war and his attempt at making up for his abandoning them, he admitted to his older friend how he had punched the Messenger in the face, inevitably broke his fingers from the pressure of the impact, and it had been his room that the messenger had stayed in for the first week of the Messenger's being there.

Gabriel had thanked the Power of course, one of the few he truly trusted with the heart of his own Captain; Zaveriel was a spitfire without a single doubt, but he loved truly and deeply, and had gotten his heart broken more times then should have ever come to pass. Of course, Nisroc had turned down the platitude, instead forging a promise with the Messenger to never break his young friend's heart again.

Outside of the Healer, and the Messenger of course, the only other one who could honestly keep the whirlwind in line was the Power. He had a heavy hand, a strong belt, and knew when the time came to pull the messenger back onto the right path.

Every warrior knew that the Captain did not tolerate disruptions in his command, if you were given an order, you were to follow it immediately and without question.

So, when the messenger was ordered to step up with a unit of three, he had taken one look at the unit, and protested. His protest was silenced only at the _look _he gained from his fellow Captain, and he instead grumbled his agreement to the order and fell out to do as was told.

The unit of four, the three warriors and the Captain of the Principalities, were to take lead, and that they did. Fighting viciously and without mercy, against the hordes of demons that had dared attempt to attack a village of foragers. None of them had the fortune of missing it, the action was so deliberate that they all saw it happen without mistake, as a swing of an unholy blade was made and the messenger side stepped it, no motion to block it, no attempt to parlay, he side stepped the attack with intent, and the blade slid cleanly through one of his assigned unit's shoulder. The warrior in question yelled in pain, coming to his knees at the agony of the coated blade slicing through his skin, through muscle and nerve, until it came out cleanly on the other side.

They all witnessed the deliberate disregard for blocking.

Nisroc came up behind the lone demon and made quick work of decapitating it, with a single upwards jerk of his own sword, cleanly through the demons lower back and up through his upper neck. It gagged and spewed blood from its lips, and when the Power yanked his sword back, it fell forwards in bloody silence.

Abraxos and Puriel rushed forward from either side to tend to the wounded warrior, as the Captain stalked forward for the messenger, Zaveriel didn't look even the slightest bit ashamed for the action he had deliberately taken.

"_What _was _that_?"

He got a dismissive wave from the youngers hand "It was too fast for me."

"You are a _messenger_!" his anger was visible in his mere tone "_Fast _is what you _do. _No, you _deliberately _side stepped that attack. You _allowed _it to get through."

"So, what if I _did_?" the messenger matched his tone "That _asshole _had it coming!"

"I've told you, _time _and _time _again, if there is a problem with one under my command, _bring _the complaint _to _me so that it may be handled."

"And I've _told _you that you're not my _Captain _to be giving _me _orders."

The others watched them go back and forth, like a game of ball, looking from one to the other as words were thrown back and forth at each other. The Power was angry, he was _furious_, that someone he trusted had allowed someone under his command to become injured in what was such an avoidable event.

"_That _I may _not _be. But I am _charged _over you by your own _commander _when he is not present, so when I give you an _order_, that _order _is to be followed by the greatest of your ability."

The messenger stepped forward, having to tilt his head back to maintain eye contact with the tall Captain, and poked him harshly in the chest "I _refuse _to follow any order that puts _myself _on the line for _scum_ like _him_." His tone took on a harder edge, something that was so unnatural for the lighthearted Principality, "_Elder, Charged, _or anything else be _damned."_

They knew that they should turn away, from what was quickly becoming a private moment between the two, but it was addicting to watch and they found they couldn't, not as the Power took hold of the small finger poking him in the chest and lifted the appendage away from him, "I will _not _be disrespected like this."

"And I won't be given _idiotic_ orders to carry out."

"I am your _Elder _and you will show me the _respect _that I _deserve_." His own gaze went as hard as the messengers had as he stared straight back into those crystal-like eyes "And if you even _think _I won't _turn you over _in front of all of these _witnesses_ then you keep on trying my _patience."_

The messenger knew, of course, that the Captain of the Power's did not make empty threats, but his emotion outweighed his common sense in that moment, as his eyes narrowed in challenge.

"I call your _bluff_."

Titus flinched from his place behind the messenger, exchanging a hasty look with the grim Haniel at his side, the messenger was issuing a challenge he would never be victor of, their Captain did _not _issue empty threats, and the messenger was too clouded by his anger to realize the trap he was leading himself into.

Nisroc narrowed his own eyes at the issuing of the challenge, bending low to meet his gaze on a more level playing field "_One _more. That's it. _One _more ounce of disrespect. You are already in it deep for disobeying orders. Do _not _make it worse for yourself."

"Well, _maybe_, if you _didn't _give _asinine _orders then they would be _better followed._" The young messenger raised his chin defiantly "You wouldn't _dare_."

He did, dare that is, and had ended their childish argument with a single motion. Singlehandedly, he took the messenger by the collar of his tunic in one hand and undid the buckle of his belt with the other, making good on his promise. Holding the messenger by the scruff of his tunic, like a mother cat does a kitten, and gave him a heavy-handed thrashing with his belt in front of _everybody _just as he had threatened to do.

The other Powers winced in sympathy for the Principality, Nisroc was not merciful when he was angered by the misdeed of the other, and there was no one who managed to push his limits exactly like the Captain of the Principalities did. Despite him having been sent back to his rightful flock at the ending of the war and the Messengers return, their Captain had maintained his position in the younger's life, having kept him underwing, a younger brother in need of guiding, a statue of order in his wild chaotic nature.


	225. Cracked

They watched them all run around, playing a game of tag, in the clearing of the Garden they frequented the most. It was one of those rare days where they could get together, the group of them, rare even for days of rest. They all leaned forward when one of the little ones tripped up, falling to the ground rather harshly, and looked down to the slightly bleeding knee that had been scrapped and he poked at it cautiously.

From beside him, he heard the Healer heave an exasperated sigh, "Why is it they cry so when it is I who touches their cuts and scrapes, and yet, it is not so much an ordeal when they do so?"

There was an aura coming from the Messenger, and they all knew he was about to say something that quite possibly may ruffle the Healer's wings, "Simple. You're terrible at your job."

A finger pointed in his direction "Keep poking at me, baby brother, and I'll show you just how _terrible _I am at my job."

He chuckled softly when the Messenger turned to look at his archangel, "Mike! Raph is threatening me!"

The Captain smiled in amusement as he watched his archangel heave a tired sigh and proceed to pinch the bridge of his nose in his own exasperation, "And _I _am threatening you _both, _do _not _force me to come between the two of you."

Lucifer snorted in amusement when both of the younger archangels nodded quickly to the eldest. Michael turned a look on him, and he raised his hands in peace, nodding back towards the fledglings that continued on their game uninterrupted.

"Because they are stronger then all of us."

The oldest archangel answered the Healers question after a moment, watching the three of them rather closely, he had always had a soft spot, and protective side, when it came to the fledglings, and especially to the one he was rather fond of.

They all nodded in agreement, the Captain leaned back on his hands, smiling as his youngest charge managed to pat the older of the two on the shoulder, and bolted in the other direction. They had come such a long way since the day they had met, though they've had a few bumps along the way, the young fledgling was making him proud each and every day with the progress he's been making.

"How much do you think still haunts them though, silently, kept to themselves?"

A seriousness had fallen over the Messenger, watching the young ones race around just as fledglings should, as it wasn't so long ago that the freedom to do so without fear of capture kept them from playing as they did now.

"I think, _more_, then they will ever admit to."

Beside him, the Morningstar nodded "They are the true victors of the war." He smiled faintly at the bright peal of laughter that came from his own charge as she dodged the others reach "Being able to live despite the tragedy that was beholden. That is true victory."

Again, they each nodded in agreement, marveling at the strength that one so small could carry with in them, the Healer crossed his legs under him as he sought another comfortable position.

"They are fighters, _survivors_, already and at such a young age. The fact that they kept that spark of innocence, the laughter returning as peace continues its play among us, shows just how much stronger they are then we."

They smiled as thy were interrupted by the ones that their conversation circled around, their giggling making everything seem brighter, as little hands tugged at the Captains arms until he conceded and finally stood from where he relaxed in the warm patch of sun, the fledgling they'd been playing with hugged her arms around the neck of the Morningstar. She kissed his cheek when he tilted his head up for one and giggled at the arms that pulled her closer to his chest, not seeing the others watching in amusement.

"What can I do for you, little bird?"

"Will you play with us, Luci?"

He hummed playfully, "Play with you?" he dig his fingers lightly into her sides, making her squeal brightly and twist about like a fish caught on a hook "Can I play with those little wings of yours?"

"No, Luci! Not that!"

"Not that game?" His brothers watched them amusedly, their smiles as bright as the fledglings was, eyes softened as they always did when looking upon the little one, they were all so fond of, no one more then he was of course, the first fledgling to let him close again. "But I love that game!"

"Luci!"

He leaned forward to kiss her nose quickly, "Alright, alright, I will play with you." He peered over her shoulder "As I can see that you're little friends have already roped the mighty Power into playing with them." He chuckled when said Power made an interesting gesture in his direction for his comment, before turning to try and catch one of the two little ones running around him, Akeelah smiled bright, leaning forward to kiss him on the cheek "Thanks Luci." He smiled, patting her on the bottom lightly as he slowly pushed himself up to stand "You're it!"

"You little—"


	226. Daze

The fledgling began to pull away, it was sudden, out of nowhere, but she retreated from them as though they were an enemy of some sort. It left them all confused, concerned for her wellbeing, wondering what the cause of such an unusual move on her part could be.

The had sought out those that their fledgling was closest too, hoping to gain some sort of insight, some sort of idea of what could be causing the withdraw from the bright fledgling.

Nisroc had shrugged, shaking his head, when his archangel had questioned him on the matter as they walked through the late years training. The Power seemed just as confused as he was, promising to share anything that may be brought to him on the matter, the two of them, the Captain and fledgling, had been friends for quite some time and he was something akin to a confidant when it came to secret's she did not want exposed to others. Though, when the matter called for it, he did make certain persons aware when those secrets were bad enough.

Gabriel had garnered much of the same response from his own Captain, Zaveriel seemed confused at the knowledge that his young friend had pulled away from her loving guardian(s), it was no secret that the fledgling adored them, and in turn, they adored her just as much. He promised, on the same term that the Power had, to come forward with any information he may obtain.

The Healer gained a bit more luck, when it came to fledglings, and that one in particular, their treatment in the Infirmary was something he was always informed of. It had been a practice since long before, and it would be one for the times coming, fledglings required a bit more care then elders did, and he took their wellbeing to heart in all cases. Cuts and scrapes could be handled by the others, but things a bit more serious, broken bones and problems with their growing grace, those were brought to the attention of the archangel among them.

Constantine nodded to his soft inquiry "The fledgling was in here just the other day." He took in the surprise that crossed his archangels features, and continued on to explain further "A few feathers had been pulled from her starry wings, begged us not to tell you, of course we were going to but it had honestly been forgotten in the growing number of patients that flooded our hands the other day."

"Feathers were missing?"

He nodded, "A few of them. It appeared as though they had been plucked. She was rather tightlipped about the whole matter of the cause."

Raphael nodded, absorbing this information for further examination "Was there anything else?"

The younger healer took a moment to think, and he gave his Virtue his patience, he was not lying when he noted that their hands had been rather full for the past few days, it was easy to forgot something that had fallen out of sight. Though he truly wished he had been made aware of this occurrence sooner, it was not something he could fault his healer on.

"I don't remember much beyond that. We washed out the area that had been pluck, I _do_ remember though, that there was a sprain. A bruise to the scapula and a sprained wrist. We bound the sprained wing and she went along on her way."

"And she never declared what had caused such a thing?"

"No. Not for lack of trying either. She refused to speak word on the matter."

The Healer nodded, "Thank you." And the other nodded in turn, heading back to the patient he had been pulled away from when the Healer had begun asking around for any news that there might be on the concerning matter at hand.

He took the information in mind, his thoughts whirling with all possibilities, and took such findings back to his brothers that night, their fledgling having failed to return to their villa for the fourth night in a row. It was not worrisome for her absence, she still spent some nights at the Pantheon, more specifically, with Jeremiah. But the details of the matter unknown is what caused their concern, thoughts developing that her absence was due to hiding the problem she faced currently, as they knew not to go looking for her when she was with the Choir Elder, especially in a situation as delicate as the one they currently faced. Anything too much might make her withdraw completely, and from the discovery of such injury being made to her delicate downy wings, having her withdraw from them was not an option to be taken.

"Something is going on, something she does not want others to know of, but what it may be remains a mystery."

Michael was distressed, a fledgling was being harmed right under his nose, and there was little he could do to aid in the situation they faced. He was at a standstill, at the silence on the matter, and it hurt him deeply to know that someone so small needed protecting and he could do little to protect them from the unknown tormentor.

His younger brother nodded at his stated inquiry "I fear it to be so. There is little that can be done until the matter is brought forth, though it pains me to say so, perhaps we should just stand by until it comes to light."

"And allow someone to mess with the wings of a _fledgling_?" The Messenger was perhaps just as afflicted as the Prince was, he cared deeply for the fledglings, spending much of his free time playing with them in the garden, and to think one's wings were being plucked was unnerving "That's despicable to ever suggest."

"What should we do then, little brother?" the Healer turned to him with sparkling eyes, his temper close to peaking, the entire scenario had them all on edge "You know just as well as I that any forcing of the matter would only cause more withdrawment and that is the last thing we need at this precarious juncture."

He deflated at the chastisement from his elder, nodding in silence to his response to such an exclamation, and the Healer dipped his chin downwards to take away some of the sternness from the rebuff. They were all tense at the moment, and though infighting would do nothing but harm, there was no blame to be had in the stresses getting to one.

They concluded their discussion on the promise of keeping a closer eye on their fledgling, as much as one was able to, and all turned in for the night so they may begin their duties at sunrise with vigor.

Just as it had been the Healer to gain such insight on the aftermath of whatever situation there may be, it was also him who happened upon it, unexpectedly of course, as he strolled through the Garden deep in thought. The sound of a high pitched note of distress pulled him from his thoughts on a single quick note, and he turned in immediate action to discover the source of such a note of distress, it came from someone young, from the pitch of the note, and worry ebbed at his insides until he could catch sight of its owner.

He stepped through the bushes, between a few trees, and crested through in time to see a hand yank a starry feather from a pair of soft downy wings. There was another high-pitched note, the owner of the feather jumping from the sharp sting and whirled around to shove at the one who had dared pluck a feather from the wings of a fledgling.

The culprit was small in stature, another fledgling perhaps, and he reached to pluck another, words of anger on his lips as he pulled another free and the fledgling he tortured jumped at the sting and made another note of distress.

"What in our Father's name do you think you are doing?"

His voice cut over whatever hate filled snarl the other fledgling was about to spew, it cut over the distressed fledgling cries, and had them both spinning around in surprise. They watched with wide eyes as the Archangel marched through the brush and tall grass to join them, eyes shining with anger and heat, the fledgling holding the feathers stared in horror as he drew nearer and nearer, dropping the feathers in his grasp as he watched every step with great caution.

"How dare you do such a cruel thing, and to a fellow fledgling!"

The Healers own little fledgling curled in on herself, little wings tucking in closely, at the shame of having been found out. It made his temper boil to know that this is what been going on behind their backs, away from the prying eyes of elders who would have put a stop to such horrid behavior at first sight of it.

The caregivers who watched over the fledglings, while the elders and guardians could not while they attended to their duties, had failed at their task of minding _all _of the fledglings. There were few left from the destruction of the war, a sad result from such a needless battle, and it was inexcusable for their negligence. They fell under his flock, being healers and caregivers to the young ones, and they would be dealt with as necessary for their blindness to the matter that was going on right under their noses.

But first he dealt with this matter he had come upon on pure luck, "I have half a mind to drape you over that upturned trunk there for such an act. I would not usually do such to one so young, though firm hand is needed, there is no need for much more, but this behavior is inexcusable." He stopped first at the fledgling who wings had been afflicted and turned her with gentle, but stern hands, pulling a small wing out to examine the damage done. There was a small pattern of pink skin where feathers had been pluck earlier then this occasion, and then the inflamed skin where they had been so meanly pulled more recently.

Once he was sure the damage was minimal at best, he secured her in place by a mere look, stern and angered, and she ducked down to look to her feet under such a glance. She would not dare try and leave from her place, not wanting to face the wrath of the raging Healer, who would show her the same as the one responsible. It was wrong to pull feathers from the wings of anyone, but especially so from those of a fledgling, no matter who's hand did the act in question. It was just as bad to allow it to happen without seeking help.

His attentions turned to the young one responsible for the damage, wide eyes stared at him as he drew neared, kneeling to face him directly, grabbing him by the arms with a gentle but firm grip.

"I have half a mind to send you in search of a switch to be used, daring to pluck from another's wings, is that what you want?" he shook his lightly, not wanting to add too much, lest he terrify the already shaking fledgling, "To have that small bottom of yours bared and switched?"

The little thing shook his head quickly, eyes welling with tears despite there being no sting on neither wing nor bottom, and he forced himself to steel his resolve at the sight of watery little eyes.

"Such behavior is intolerable, inexcusable, from both Elder and Fledgling. Had it been anyone else who found you in such a terrible act, they would not have been as lenient as I have, scolding while they smacked that bottom of yours." A tear slipped from one eye, and then from the other, but he paid it no mind, they best stop this behavior now before it turned into something much worse as he grew "I ought to give you the same stinging feeling as you gave to our friend."

"P—Pl—Please do—don't pu—ll my fe—feathers!"

He shook his head firmly, gripping his arms a bit tighter, for a brief moment before loosening it again "I can think of more ways to bring about such a sting other than from plucking feathers. Do you want that to happen? Do you want me to bend you over that trunk, there?"

"N—No sir!"

"Then don't _ever _let me find, sight or word, that you ever pulled another's feathers out, _ever._" He fixed him with a look that even brought the youngest archangel to shame "Do you understand me?"

"Y—Yes sir! I—I underst—stand!"

Perhaps he was being a bit too gentle, a bit too lenient, given the severity of the offence, but he would never switch a fledgling. Perhaps, take them over his knee when the action caused for such firmness, but nothing more then that. Of course, they did not know such things, which ensured that the mere threat of meeting such an end would quell such behavior that garnered a threat of such degree in more times then not.

It was only in those special circumstances, when those threats went ignored, that he was a bit more firmer in delivering the tough love that was needed to teach right from wrong.

"Good." Despite his empty threat, he still turned him, giving a few stern swats to the small bottom as a reminder to the end he would meet should he ever do such things again. The little one whined, choking on a soft sob, as the archangel stood back to his full height, and rubbed miserably at his smarting bottom "Now, hush your cries, little one." Warm hands cradled the sides of his face, thumbs brushing the evidence of tears away tenderly "There are no need for tears, hush now, just know I will be watching now. I don't want to take such a firm hand to you, so I ask, please don't force me to." He tilted the little head up to meet his eyes, they were kinder now, not so angry, and the little boy sniffled and nodded "Good. Now, return, back to the others with you. I want you to find a place to lay down and rest for a while. Do you understand?" he smiled at the meek nod to his gentle order, and he stepped forward to do as he was told at the gesture from the archangel, a hand curling around the back of his head as he passed.

With that out of the way, he sighed, turning back to look at his own fledgling. Little Akeelah stared at the grass under her toes, not daring look up to meet her big brothers eyes, not until a finger under her chin forced her to.

"Now," he didn't sound so angry anymore, he sounded more concerned, then angry "As for you." Her own eyes watered as they stared into his eyes, they were so concerned, so worried, and it was all her fault that he felt so bad "What on _earth_ were you thinking?" he led her over to the trunk, lifting her under the arms to sit on it, and knelt before her, curling his long nimble fingers over her legs "Do you have any idea how worried we've all been?" he brushed a stray curl from her eyes, tucking it behind her ear, as her braids had been taken out the night before for washing, and they had yet to be redone. Lucifer had wanted to, he'd been waiting to do so, as he knew she preferred them during the day, her curls often got into her eyes and it annoyed her. "Why wouldn't you have come told us? _Any_ of us?"

She looked down to his hands, to her lap, "I didn' want make anyone mad." He cupped a hand over her left cheek, "We would have been upset, I guarantee, but not at you, little bear."

"I'm sorry I didn' say anythin'."

"Me too." He smiled when their eyes met again, "I would never want you to feel the sting of having feathers plucked from your little wings. I loath for it to happen again, but, if it does, promise to tell someone?" the fledgling nodded her agreement, it was a time consuming thing, trying to teach one who had only relied on themselves for so long, to seek help when help was needed, but they had the patience of saints.

He squeezed her little thighs gently, eliciting a smile from her saddened features, and he took it as progress "Mind if I take a closer look?"

The fledgling shook her head, allowing him to pick her up once more, set him on his lap as he turned to lean back on the stump. He worked his fingers gently, and diligently, through the small soft feathers. He felt up the joint that had been sprained some weeks ago, healed now given the time it needed, and felt around the plucked patches for any reaction to the light pressure, none was had, and he brushed his fingers through the soft fluffy down of the fledgling wings before him. He curled his fingers around the tip of the wing, around the outer most phalange, and stretched it out carefully. She turned to look at him over her shoulder in question to the action, and he chuckled at the look she graced him with, running the fingers of his free hand over the tops of the soft downy feathers.

"There is something I've been meaning to look further into."

"What's that, big brother?" her innocence was heartwarming.

"Some angels have sensitive wings, just like our dearest brother Gabriel, and I wonder if yours are perhaps the same in fashion."

Of course, the fledgling has seen the way he tortures the Messenger, bringing him to his knees with a few good scratches to one of his golden wings, how merciless his torment of him is, and she shivers as the thought of her falling to it crosses her young mind, tugging experimentally on the wing secured tenderly in his grasp.

"Big brother!"

He merely smiles at her, his fingers dipping under the thick fluffy feathers, and he takes in the way her entire form stiffens when his fingers come to rest on the soft pink flesh underneath.

"My my, we shall investigate this further, won't we?"

She shakes her head, a smile trying to break through the grim look that has overcome her features, and he digs in only just, experimentally, and smiles fondly when a bright shriek manages to escape from her fruitless determination to remain silent.

"I'm not sure, my little bear, that tummy of yours has been my favorite place for quite some time, but I think these little wings will quickly surpass it."

"You're mean."

This time, a rare playfully bright grin breaks over his features, she sees it most over everyone, and immediately regrets her choice of words.

"That," he digs in, only just, once, again "That was not mean." She shrieks again, falling back, when he digs his fingers in again, a bit more this time, and travels a tingly path over the small appendage. He's had plenty of practice searching out those particularly bad spots, mostly on the Messenger of course, and chuckles when her fingers curl into the bottom of his robes when he finds one of those spots and gives it a bit more attention "_This_, perhaps, is a bit _mean_."


	227. Small

**AN: as per madam Jessica, who wanted to see some teenage Akeelah sulking about being still so much smaller then most everyone else and some fluff with our dearest Michael, your wish is my command :D**

It was one of those rare days, rest was being had, and neither of them had much of anything to keep them, so they both settled into the coolness and solitude of the Garden. He shut his eyes, resting just a bit, as he ran his fingers through the curls of the head that rested against the side of his stomach, knowing that his companion was still wide awake and weaving one of the flower crowns she used to weave for everyone when she had been a small fledgling.

Well, a fledgling.

She was still small.

Fingers curled around his hand that stroked through the curls, and he let his appendage be pulled up over the head and tugged to lay on her stomach instead. He felt his fingers open wide, a little hand pressing up against his, flat against his palm, as though to measure the difference between them. There was a soft huff and his hand was dropped back onto the stomach underneath, and he felt the shift as the little body moved slightly, no doubt to reach down and pluck at the green grass underneath them, as she had done when she had been aggravated as a fledgling.

He dug his fingers slightly into her belly, smiling when it elicited the same small shriek it had when she had been so much younger "Why are you sulking, little one?"

"I'm not sulking." Though the tone it was said it said otherwise "Big one."

"Oh, yes you are," he opened a single eye to peer over at the untamable curls, she still wore them in braids, sometimes, but she had grown accustomed to the curls and wore her hair naturally most days now, "I can feel you, such as you're plucking at the grass right now, which you did when you sulked as a fledgling." Immediately she shifted again, fingers untwining from the green grass quickly, folding on top of her belly instead, their hands rubbed against each other. He smiled knowingly and laid back down again, closing his eye, and took a small sigh to relax himself again.

He waited patiently for a moment, digging his fingers in again, and this time small fingers curled around his as his companion jolted slightly at the feeling.

"Now, tell me what has you sulking."

He heard her take a deep breath, fingers still curled around his, and felt her heave a great sigh against his stomach.

"Why am I still so _small_?" she lifted his hand and dropped it back to her belly, "I mean, _Gabe's_ taller then me, and he's a _midget_."

He couldn't help himself, he chuckled at that last remark, curling his fingers around hers "I wouldn't let him hear you say that." He knew his rest was at an end when the weight against his side moved, she sat it, and took his hand with her. He opened his eyes and sat up in turn, tugging her closer with the hand she still held captive, but she didn't move at his tug, stubbornly staying in place.

"I'm being _serious_."

He held up his hands, even the one she kept to herself, in surrender "Alright, alright, my apologies. I shall take this more seriously then." And then under his breath, though not so much that she couldn't hear him "So _serious _now." And she narrowed her eyes.

"_Micha."_

The archangel chuckled and dipped his chin in apology "My apologies. I'll be serious now." She didn't look convinced and let his hand go. He yelped slightly when she grabbed his ankle, lifted his foot, and pressed hers against his. She groaned at the way his dwarfed hers and let his ankle go to drop back onto the grass under him. Michael raised an eyebrow at it and leaned forward, amusement taking over when she merely let herself fall back, arms falling spread on either side.

"I'm…. I'm a _runt_, Micha." She pressed her hands to her face to hide away "I _thought _you were supposed to get bigger when you grew. I only got a _little _bigger."

"It's not so bad, now, aren't you being a bit dramatic?"

She peeked out from under her hands, glaring at him, "Easy for you to say, you…...you _giant_." And he raised an eyebrow. She covered her face again, and he watched her for a moment, eyebrow still raised in amusement to her plight.

"Being small is not such a horrid thing, look at Gabe, for example, he's a _'midget' _as you so kindly put it, yet still one of Heaven's most terrifying weapons."

Akeelah was glaring at him again "But he's an _archangel_." And she hid away again "No one makes fun of him for being short."

He raised another eyebrow, "You do. Quite often, in fact."

"I'm trying to keep him humble."

"I see. I'm sure he appreciate the effort."

She groaned again, into her hands, and the Viceroy heaved an exasperated sigh.

"Come here," he grabbed her by the ankle and tugged her to him, she yelped, her hands falling away from her face at the sudden motion, "Shall we go over all the ways being smaller than others is useful?"

"Micha!"

"Hush, little one." He tilted his head downwards, "I'm teaching right now."

The archangel tugged her closer, nearly in his lap, and buried his hand into her belly again. She shrieked brightly, giggling in delight, eyes sparkling in the way they had when she'd been a little fledgling, and he smiled at the reaction.

"Let's see, shall we," he moved his hand downwards slightly, and she arched upwards, giggles getting a bit harder "Your friend, Zaves, he's rather short too. And yet, he is Captain of the Principalities."

"Mihihicahaahha! Stohohhop!"

"I said to _hush_, little star." He reached for her side and gave it a rather hard squeeze, she shrieked again, jumping away, not getting too far, for she jumped against his stomach, and he trapped her there as he let his fingers torment her side for a bit. "I'm talking now. You wanted me to be _serious_. And that's another thing; you're so _serious _now." He smiled when his young charge, she may not be a fledgling anymore, but she would forever be his little charge, little star, when she tried to curl onto her side to block his fingers from their access. No matter, he let her curl up, back pressed against his stomach, and dug his fingers into her exposed side instead. She shrieked again, squealing brightly, curled in a ball and yet still trapped under his tortures, "You don't have to be _serious _all the time now, just because you've grown out of fledglinghood, you may not be _little _anymore but you're still so young."

"Dihihid yohohu just mahahake a—_Micha! Not there! —_shohohort johohoke!"

Michael's fingers found that one spot above the highest rib, skillfully digging in there, he'd helped raise her since she was a small fledgling, he knew all the buttons to push to gain the best of responses.

"So, what if I did?" he poked a finger under her arm, worming it in, and she yelped, uncurling slightly to reach for his finger, her arm lifting just a tad, and that was all he needed to shove his other fingers under, "What will you do about it, _runty little thing_?"

_"__Dohohon't cahahhaalll mehehheee ruuhahahaunty!"_

"Or what, are you going to stop me, you _wee little _thing you?"

Despite her precarious position, and his clear maintaining of the upper hand, she reached back and punched him in the stomach. It did little to phase the archangel, but he stopped his playful attack, to look down at the fist that pressed into his stomach.

"Did you just _punch_ me?"

She giggled despite his stillness, eyes twinkling with joy, and he smiled despite himself.

"Did your old master not teach you what happens to those who hit us?"

Akeelah yelped as they turned over, her back hitting the grass, her older brother laying over top of her slight frame, to keep her from moving.

"I, _personally_, wouldn't have you _any_ other way." He smiled down to her, leaning forward to press his lips to her temple, before pressing their foreheads together and brushing his nose against hers, she giggled softly and scrunched her nose up, "You are _perfect _just the way you are."

"I lohohove you, Micha."

He chuckled warmly, "And, I love you, with all my heart." The archangel leaned forward once more and pressed their foreheads together again, "And do you know what my favorite part about your size is?" her persistent giggles warmed his heart, and she shook her head, eyes shining as they looked up into his, "It makes doing _this _so much easier." Michael dropped his head from her temple, burying his face into her neck, and she squealed brightly as she scrunched her shoulder up, but he was already there. Those bright giggles turned into bubbly hisses when she tried to stifle her laughter as he nibbled softly into the soft sensitive skin.

Akeelah was still giggling breathlessly when he pulled away, resting their foreheads together again, a rare playful moment between the two of them after a regretfully long time, and he would cherish every minute of it, make it last as long as he could. After all the harsh training, rough conditioning, and the bout of hazing (yes—he was indeed made aware of the actions that took place), his little star could use a bit of laughter.

"You are not _small_, my little star, you are _lithe. _Which makes you my _sneakiest_ of warriors." He kissed the tip of her nose lightly "Don't think I don't know about your little escapades with young Sasha after dark. There is _very_ little that happens in my training squads that I don't know about."

"I don't knohow what you're tahahalking about."

"Of course, you don't," her eyes were sparkling, and he knew her previous woes were forgotten in the moment "Because you're so _sneaky_."

And he let his head drop to the other side, burying his face into the left side of her neck now, and she did much of the same thing as before, squealing brightly she tried to scrunch up again, more little bubbly hisses when he nibbled a bit on the soft skin there, kissing softly behind her ear, airy soft giggles swirling around them peacefully. Her giggles echoed in his ear, and he smiled into the soft skin under him, burrowing in a bit deeper to gain more of them.

Michael pulled away slightly "Are you still upset?" but he was still close enough that he spoke into the soft skin of her neck, she shook her head despite her scrunched-up position, "Nohoho! Nohoho Mihihichaaa!"

"Good." He burrowed back in, and she squealed again, her small fingers curling into the front of his tunic, they had pushed against him at first but now they just clung on instead "_Mihihichahaha!" _he dug his fingers on both sides of her high ribs and she screamed in laughter, arching her back against his chest, and he felt her throw her head back in ticklish agony, he laughed with her as he finally pulled away, pressing his temple to hers once more. Her eyes were scrunched shut and he waited until they opened, shining bright with mirth and delight and perhaps some joyful tears, and kissed her nose again "What, little star? I haven't gotten to spend time alone with you in _months_, I'm just enjoying myself a _bit."_

_"__Ahahahhat my expehehehence!"_

"Well, of course it's at _your _expense." He smiled at her persistent giggling, though perhaps it had to do with him twitching his fingers every so often "Did you think it would be at _mine_?"

She squealed brightly again, curling her shoulder up, when he fell back into the right side of her neck. Pressing small kisses behind her ear again, bubbly little hisses escaping at the tingly little feeling, and when he nibbled a bit into the soft skin once more. Again, he dug his fingers into her highest ribs, and she screamed in laughter once more, fingers tightening their grip on the front of his tunic, and he waited for her to arch her back again to cross his arms under her. He wiggled his fingers into her ribs again, relishing in her bright laughter, and turned them over again, laying on his back now, and pulling her up to lay on his chest. His little Akeelah wiggled and squirmed, trying to break free of his tickly hug, when he finally pulled away from her neck for good, brushing a kiss to her forehead again, he stopped his playful attack once and for all.

The little lady was breathless, chest heaving as she fell limp on top of him, fingers loosening their grip but staying curled lightly in his tunic. He returned to his previous motion of stroking his fingers through her curls as she calmed down from his, somewhat merciless, playful attack.

"Feel better?"

She nodded, still giggling lightly from the after tingles that danced over her ticklish neck, nuzzling her cheek against his chest softly.

"That… was…. _mean_."

"Perhaps," he rubbed a hand over her shoulders lightly, smiling faintly when she relaxed even further into him "But, you feel better now. And I've been told I can be quite mean." She giggled lightly, still a bit breathlessly, and pulled his hand down from her curls to rest over her cheek. He smiled and curled his fingers, rubbing the tips over the smooth skin, "Close your eyes, little star." He glided the tips of his fingers up from her cheek to rub at her forehead instead, and she sighed contentedly, nuzzling deeper into his chest. It had truly been months since they got to spend time together alone, and he regretted every minute of that time span, wanting this moment to never end. He knew her eyes were closed without having to look down. She was a good listener. For the most part. "Rest, little one, I will be here when you wake again. You're completely spent."

He felt her nod against his chest, hugging his hand to her chest, just as she had when she was only his small little fledgling "I love you, big brother."

His fingers curled over hers, the fingers of his free hand still rubbing at her temple "I love you too, baby sister."


	228. Cling

The gate closed with a soft click behind him, and he winced as though the sound itself would wake the inhabitants in the villa before him, he went still as though to listen for any movement to indicate they had heard, and when there was nothing but silence he breathed a sigh of relief and stepped forward.

Moon light guided him up the stone path to the grand porch of the villa, he peeked inside the entrance, looking from one side to the other for any sort of witness to his being there, but he was alone. They had all turned in for the night, the only light coming from the moon and stars above, and the small flickering of an oil lamp from a cracked door down the hall.

He opened the door to the villa and stepped inside, minding the door as he closed it, making sure that there was not even a creak as he did. He padded across the great sitting room, passed the table that held the well-used candles and a few mugs of cooling liquids, he stepped into the hall with caution.

The first door was to the Morningstar's room, where him and his friend would sneak to during the stormy nights when the villa had been abandoned by the other archangels, he heard the soft snoring come from the slight crack in the door. Peeking in silently, he could see the two figures on the bed, one stretched out on their back, and the other curled up like a tiny kitten upon their chest. He smiled at the sight of them, stepping away from the door to leave them to their sleep, and padded to the next.

His second stop was outside the Messengers room, he opened the door a crack, spotting his master sprawled on his back, one arm hanging off the side of his bed, snoring as loud as a lion. Parchments and pages littered nearly his entire room, evidence of his bringing duties home with him, and he bit back a soft snort at the boots that had be haphazardly kicked off on a path towards where he lay sprawled out in peaceful bliss. Closing the door behind him, he continued on, stepping silently across the warm wooden floor, stopping in front of the cracked door with the flickering candle casting a warm glow down the hall.

At the end of the hall was the Prince's room, his door was closed, as it usually was during these secret nightly trips. His sword would be leaning against the small table situated on the right corner of his bed. He slept in a ball, curled in on himself, as silent as the night around him.

He stepped forward slightly, to peer into the one room in the villa that contained the occupant that remained awake to the slumbering world around them, and the board under his foot creaked lightly. It wasn't loud in the slightest, but the silence that encompassed them was void of any noise, thus the creak sounded as though it were a trumpets toot.

He cringed at the creak of a chair respond to his careless movement, the soft sounds of someone walking across the room, and he debated on whether or not he should turn and bolt while he still had the ch-.

"Zaves?"

The door was open now, the warm glow of the candles on the grand oak desk pushed up against the window spilled out into the hall, and he blinked at the sudden brightness, scrunching up slightly.

"Hey…" he looked up sheepishly, at being caught of course, to meet the amused and concerned gaze of his old guardian "Good night, Raph?"

"It has been pleasant." He tilted his head to the side, "Can you say the same?"

"It's been good." The young messenger nodded as if he were trying to convince even himself of that obvious falsehood.

"Zaveriel."

He flinched at that tone, the Healer had never condoned lying, never had and most certainly never will. Though he had long been out from under his immediate care, the messenger still ducked under the light scolding tone that was used, looking to the floor.

"Can I…uhhh….Can I come in?"

The Healer stepped aside, motioning with his free hand for him to enter, and the messenger ducked under the arm that held the door open, stepping into the warm room of the Healer. It smelled like lavender and mint, smelled like the Healer _himself_, and it comforted him in ways that were hard to come by in these days. Some nights were good and some nights were bad. This one was on the unfortunate side. The door was closed behind him, back to its previously cracked position, and the elder turned with his arms crossed loosely over his chest.

"Now, we are blanketed in privacy, can we try for the truth?"

Zaveriel rubbed at the back of his head sheepishly, regretting that he had not turned and bolted when he had the chance to, and he looked down to his feet again in shame for what he was about to ask. He had not been a fledgling in a long while now, and to ask for such a thing was unheard of, he was _Captain _of the Principalities for _Dad's _sake, he should have just swallowed the feeling and desire and turned to his other side in his bed.

"Did….Did I interrupt something?"

The archangel gestured to his desk, "Notes. Nothing important." He tapped the fingers of his right hand over his left arm, "I answered your question, can you return the favor?"

His face heated in shame, and he covered the redness with his hands, curling in on himself and throwing his head back at the same time.

"Gosh, _Raph_, this is _hard _enough as it is!"

"What is _'__hard enough'_?" he heard him adjust his position, he knew that the archangel was leaning forward, only slightly, eyes watching him intently, "Just ask what you came to ask, I can see the question shining in your eyes, when you don't hide them from me."

"CanIsleepwithyou?"

He peeked out between his middle and ring finger to see the reaction he had gained for such a ridiculous request, the only thing that he got was a raised eyebrow "Can you try again but with a bit less speed?"

"_Ugh_." The messenger threw his head back again, a moment of silence passed between them, and he tilted it back to his feet again "Can I…. Can I sleep with you?"

Zaveriel waited for the rejection, he was too old to ask such things, the Healer wasn't even his master anymore, and he hadn't been his guardian for centuries and centuries. He was going to be denied and sent back to the dark room he had left behind. Warm fingers curled around his, pulling his hands away from his face, and he met the gaze of soft electric blue eyes.

The Healer smiled down to him "_Yes_, of course you can stay with me." He felt relief wash over him like rainwater from above, and he gave a small smile at the invitation that was inline with his desire. "But, if I may ask, why not go to my brother?" he tilted his head slightly "He would never deny such a request. He adores you much too much to."

"Because he doesn't hum."

"He doesn't _hum_?"

Zaves nodded, feeling his face heat up again, and he averted his gaze slightly to the side of the Healer's head, looking intently at his ear instead.

"_No_. You _hum _and…and it makes me feel _better._"

"I didn't know you liked my humming so much, I'm flattered."

A hand pat his cheek softly, pulling him from his staring at the Healer's ear, turning back to look into those soft eyes that always managed to make him feel better.

"Of course, you may sleep with me." He gestured to his bed, with soft pillows and warm blankets that smelled like him, Zaves followed his gesture closely "I have a few things to finish up before I join you, but make yourself comfortable, I am here if you need me." The messenger nodded, thanking him softly under his breath, and trotted to curl among the blankets that smelled like the one who he trusted most. He trusted his master, of course he did, but his old guardian had never abandoned him.

There was still some trust to be regained between him and the Messenger.

He watched from under the blanket as the Healer shook his head fondly, returning to his desk to finish the notes he had been working on, the soft scratching of a quill on parchment filled the silence, the soft crackle of the candles echoed softly, and he closed his eyes for only a moment.

The bed dipped, and it woke him up, the blankets moved slightly and an arm curled around his shoulders. Yawning, the messenger curled around the Healer, resting his head in the crook of his arm, he gave a soft exhale. Fingers rubbed at his shoulder, and he sank in deeper, letting the tension fall away to the skilled nimble fingers of his old guardian.

"What brought you to me, little hummingbird?"

He smiled sleepily at the nickname, a pet name from his fledglinghood, it felt good to hear it again. But he turned his head inward, not wanting to admit his weakness, after all, he was a _Captain_. But those fingers dug into a particularly stubborn knot in his shoulder and he sighed on comfort.

"I didn't want to be alone."

"You are never alone."

Zaves blinked into the darkness, the on comfort being the arm he was wrapped up in, the warmth of the side he was curled around, the solidness of the crook of the arm he laid his head against.

"I'm scared of the dark."

"You were never frightened of the dark before, what happened to you, to cause such fear."

He swallowed, burrowing in closer, and the arm around him tightened its hold in assurance. It was not a subject that was talked about much, at any time, not even with the Messenger. He preferred for it to be forgotten, out of sight and out of mind, but sometimes it would rear its ugly head again and make him feel as frightened as a fledgling, something he hadn't been for quite some time.

"When I was…..My stay in the….The Prisons." He swallowed again, wrapping his arm around to rest on top of the Healer's chest, fingers curling into the light tunic he wore, and long nimble fingers curled over top of his hand in assurance "I fought back once, you know, like I'm wont to do because I'm badass." The Healer gave a light breathy chuckle, but didn't interrupt or cut in, letting him get this weight from his chest "They….uhh…..they locked me in this cell. It was small and cold and _so _dark. I couldn't see anything, not even my hand right before my eyes, and it felt like the walls were getting closer and closer. Sometimes I'd think I'd see something moving around me. It was…It was _scary_, Rapha, and I can't…I can't _forget_! I _want _to _forget_!"

He felt lips press to the side of his head for a long moment, as though he was trying to give him strength in a single intimate gesture, and it was a long moment before they were pulled away.

"You will never forget what you endured." The arm tugged him closer, until his head joined the hand that clutched at the Healer's tunic, resting comfortably on his chest, and a large hand pet the side of his head, brushing long nimble fingers through his hair, tucking strands behind his ear lightly "But, you _overcame _it. I would take the memories, take the fright, take it all from you if I thought it would help you, and you know I _would_." The messenger nodded against the chest under his head, if there was one who could do all of that, it would be the Healer "But I know that it will _not_. Taking away the hurt would not help you in any way. You are built stronger by what you live through. You are one of the strongest I know, far more so then I could ever hope to be."

Zave's shook his head "There's no way I could be stronger then _you_."

"But you are, my little hummingbird, in _so _many ways." Again warm lips pressed to the side of his head, "So much _stronger _than I can hope to be. You were not left unscathed by The Fall, I don't think any of us truly were, and the ensuing war that followed, it broke you down in so many different ways, you lost your master and it is my brothers greatest regret, you were forced to take charge of a flock at such a young age, a flock that you watched get torn apart by blind hands. And through all of that, you remained as you are, still so true to the heart that you follow. You were pushed to your very limits, and perhaps passed them, but you did not let it change who you are."

"Am I still me though?" he licked his lips, "I don't feel like _me _sometimes."

"I would be surprised if you didn't. What you overcame is not something the most of us can say they've overcome. You bare scars of your trials. But they are only skin deep, none, no matter how strong they may be, can change _who _you are." He touched a finger over his own chest, to where his grace beat like a heart, "_This_ is who you are. The lighthearted messenger who uses his old guardian as the butt of many of their jokes and pranks. The mischievous angel who can be more trouble then he is worth at sometimes. And the young one that _loves _with all his being." He sighed softly "It is more than most can say."

"You're still you too."

"I wasn't for quite some time, though, was I?"

Zaves stared ahead in the darkness, not sure how he should respond to that, for it was true. His old guardian, whom he still came to when things got too rough for him, came for comfort and advice and so much more, had once turned his back on him. Calling him a traitor, he'd even said he'd disowned him from his charge, and it had cut him completely through. It had nearly destroyed him. To have his last pillar of safety torn from him so cruelly. It was not long after that, that he had thrown himself recklessly into battle, and then ended up in the Prisons for refusing orders to capture the fledglings that were spotted for the Prisons themselves.

It was the Healer who found him in the garden, head in his hands, as the memories continued flowing in like water through a river. Cautious, unsure on if he still had the privilege of being at his side after what he had done and said, but had thrown the unsureness to the wind when he'd looked up to him with tearstained eyes.

"But you're back now." That worked, he thought to himself.

"I am." He smiled when fingers scratched lightly at his neck, just behind his ear, "And I'm not going anywhere again, I should have never left any of you." A finger tapped on his neck "Most of all, I should not have left you, I should not have had favorites among my charges, but you were mine."

"Don't tell Gabe.", he looked up, and though the room was dark, he knew that their eyes had met "But you're my favorite too."

There was a soft, deep, chuckle and the free hand uncurled from his fingers for a moment to push his head back down, before returning to their previous position.

"Go to sleep, little hummingbird." The blankets pulled up to his chin, the arm curling around him a bit more securely, and another kiss is pressed to his forehead "I've got you."

"Will you groom my wings tomorrow?"

Another breathy chuckle, it came as a bit of a purr though, as he hummed deeply in his chest "Yes, I will groom your wings."

Zaves smiled to himself, settling down again for sleep, comforted by the fingers scratching lightly at the side of his head and the gentle rise and fall of the chest under him. The dark was still there, but it wasn't as drowning, it was _just_ there.


	229. Secrets

"You should say something."

Both young angels hobbled slowly down the hall towards their barrack, curls brushed over his shoulder when his companion shook her head, and he sighed deeply in regret.

"I can't say anything, Sasha, they'll pull me from training."

"And if Nis finds you he'll pull us both into his office."

"Sash." She looked up at him with wide eyes "You gotta promise not to say anything."

"Akeelah, you can't expect me to _not _to tell someone, you know what'll happen if someone finds out and they find out that we knew and didn't say anything."

She was adamant though "You got to _swear_."

He knew it was a bad idea, but Akeelah had been his friend since the very beginning, he couldn't break that trust over something like this. And at the same time, the phantom pain of the Power's hand made his bottom burn instinctively, he knew how this could end if anyone else found out.

But he still met her gaze "I swear."

Sasha helped his friend wobble the rest of the length of the hall, mindful of the wound to her leg, and they slowly made their way into the darkened barrack to their bunk. It had been a lowly made slash of a sword had knicked her there, it had been called out for foul play, and they had tried to make the young lady get herself looked after, but she had been adamant on her wellbeing and they had let the matter go, against their better judgement.

She was far from as okay as she said she was.

But he helped her sit on the edge of her bed, waiting until she slowly turned to lay on the soft bed as best as she could, Akeelah hissed softly as she laid down and pulled the blanket over herself.

…

Things came to a front the following week, during training, hand to hand combat under the ever-vigilant eye of their own mentor. Paired off, they usually took to each other, but this time were separated. Assigned partners by their Mentor, they paired off, parting from each other's side with a long-shared glance.

The Power took note of her favoring her left leg, but wrote it off as a bit of sore muscles from the vigorous training of the week, conditioning had taken over their time on the field, and conditioning was used to separate the ones who were strong enough to handle life as a warrior, and those who were not. Part of him was a bit let down to see that something had gotten to the stubbornest angel he had ever had the pleasure of knowing.

But the look shared between the two of them was a tad concerning though. One didn't just share a look like that unless they were keeping secrets.

Still, he threw it off, walking between the pairs as they began their sparring, critiquing as he went and offering gentle guidance.

And then the sweep of the leg came. He watched attentively as the opponent swept his leg under her, dropping her to her feet, and she looked up at his appearance, flinching at the look of disappointment that crossed his features, as he turned to move on to the next pair. She would wave away the hand that her opponent he held out to her for aid, and he stood back, watching as she struggled to get to her feet. Across the way, Sasha watched his friend with concern, ducking under a swing from the other's fist in quick succession. It broke his heart to see his old guardian spare that sort of look, his friend looked up to him for approval, and to gain only disappointment was going to hurt her more then the wound on her leg.

So, mind set, despite the consequence for his part in the matter, he called softly to the Power when he made his way to where he stood sparing. Nisroc raised an eyebrow, his hand held up to pause the other, and stepped forward at his charge's beckoning.

He bent, still so much taller then the other despite how much he'd grown, to allow him to whisper in his ear.

And his eyes immediately turned to watch their Baby Power.

…

The stood at attention at their Captain's appearance in their barrack, armor having been removed, hands tucked loosely in the belt around his waist. He waved their attention away with a hand, his focus only on the one who had not managed to stand at his arrival, Sasha looked guilty, perhaps for telling the secret that had been so closely kept, but he had been raised well.

They all returned to what they had been doing, stepping aside when the Power, and he knelt before the young lady sitting on her bunk, humming at the downturn of her head, knowing that the secret had been spilled.

"I believe you know why I'm here?", he nodded in time with her, and reached out for her, "Come with me."

Akeelah didn't struggle when his fingers curled around her middle, pulling her out from her bunk, and the large hand that guided her arm around his neck. She barely reached the floor, and he had to lean to the side for her to stand on her good leg. The Captain motioned for his charge to follow, and they left the barrack in silence, guiding their limping companion down the hall.

"When did this happen, Akeelah?"

She flinched at the calling of her name, Nisroc usually called her by her fledglinghood nickname, but her name meant that there was trouble to be had for the action that had been taken.

"Two and a half weeks ago."

He stopped them, the three of them came to a standstill, and he turned a stern gaze onto the two sheepish young ones at his side "You mean to tell me that you two knew of this for _two and a half weeks _before coming forward?" there was no response and he hummed, nodding his head at the silence that answered his only question.

"A healer will look at your leg and then we will address this lack in judgement."

They both nodded silently, not wanting to say anything more that may make him angrier then he already was, and he thought it was an educated choice on their part. The healer was waiting in his office, and he aides the youngling to sit up on the end of his desk, before stepping around to sit behind her at the desk. A wave of his hand had his charge sitting tenderly in one of the chairs across from him. He watches as the healer attends to the wound on the young lady's leg, grimacing at the pasty color it has turned, and felt an odd sense of satisfaction at the hiss that was released as the infected wound was disinfected, and sat silently, finger tapping at his lips, as the leg was bound in bandages, a jar of disinfectant to apply when the bandages were changed again.

Nisroc continued to tap at his lips as the healer bid them a farewell and shut the door behind them, they refused to meet his gaze as they sat before him and that was just as well.

"I'm rather disappointed." His tone carried his feelings rather clearly and they both cringed, "You both know well enough that such a thing is not tolerated, in any manner, you were both raised with such knowledge."

When there was no response, he sighed deeply "Sasha. I raised you myself." The young boy looked down to his lap in shame, fingers fiddling with the edge of his tunic "You know the consequences for keeping such a thing from me, personally." Nervous eyes flitted up for a moment to meet his stern gaze "Yes, 'Roc."

He turned to the young lady at his side "As for you, young Akeelah, I did not raise you, but I played a rather large part in your upbringing, didn't I?" she nodded silently, refusing to look up to meet his eyes, and just as well, his tone gave way to his disappointment more then his gaze ever could. He sighed when it became evident that nothing more was going to come from them both. "Then you both know what to do." They exchanged looks and nodded, Sasha stood from the chair he sat in, positioning himself to the side of the large Power. For all his consequences in his fledglinghood, Nisroc had never crossed the unspoken line that had been drawn at their very first meeting, and that maintained itself to this day, he would never lay more then a hand into passing on lessons that needed learned with a bit more of a firmer hand.


	230. Gag

Those two were always up to no good, whether it be from some friendly competition or an issued challenge, they were always up to mischief. So it came as no surprise when the Messenger walked in on the two in a stare down of sorts. Standing a hairs length away from each other, lips clenched as tight as they could, cheeks puffed out, and faces turning an interesting shade of amber.

"What are you two even _doing_?"

They waved a hand at him each, telling him to mind his own without the use of words, not even breaking their stare at his entrance. He looked between the two of them, heaved a tired sigh, and caught the passing messenger by the arm.

Wide eyes stared up at him, and he smiled, "Tanson, do you know what they're doing?" he indicated the two in question with a hand gesture, and the messenger leaned over to get a good look at the issue at hand, and nodded immediately, "They want to see who can hold their breath the longest."

_"__Why?"_

"Who knows." She shrugged "Its easier to just not question it."

He nodded, letting her return to the duty she had been working on before being interrupted, turned back to stare at the two of them in silence, for a moment.

"Okay, that's enough." The Messenger easily separated them, both of their eyes starting to water, "Guys, I said that was enough. End this stupid competition, _now_." They ignored him, leaning around to meet each other's gazes again. He huffed in aggravation and nodded to himself. "Fine. You want to play hardball." He left them standing there, heading for the door of his office "Then we'll play hardball."

Neither one made any indication that they saw him leave, staring and holding the breath for as long as they could manage, both refusing to let it go until the other did. Silence took back over again, and there they stood, unmovable.

"Gabe, I don't see why you had to come and get us."

"I'll show you why, Luci, I'll show you."

The Messenger had returned again, throwing the door wide open, and in walked the three of them, the Messenger had gone to retrieve himself help. The Healer and the Morningstar came to a standstill, watching the two of them with wide eyes, before turning to the Messenger in question.

"They're seeing who can hold their breath longer." As if that helped figure this strange situation out.

_"__Why?"_

Gabriel waved his hand at the older archangel "I don't even know."

The Healer sighed deeply, "And I am to assume that you came for us to get them to stop?"

"They won't listen to _me_."

The two older archangels exchange amused glances, stepping passed the Messenger to do as they were intended to do, stepping up behind the two stubborn angels. The Morningstar scooped the little fledgling right up, cradling her in his arms, she shrieked brightly when he lifted her up over his head "What are you doing, my stubborn little fledgling?"

"Luci, you made me lose!"

The Healer stepped up behind the young messenger, close enough that the young one could feel the warmth from his chest brush against him, and long fingers curled around his hips. The laugh he releases could of one or two reasons; the first being of his triumph over their competition, or secondly, from the way the Healer squeezed into his hips in the way he knew to be rather torturous.

"I won!"

"Did you?" he falters at the soft hum of the Healer's deep voicing from behind him, and it's in that moment that he truly registers the fingers curling into his hips, "Because it seems to me that you tied."

"No, I definitely won."

"Oh" he hears the lightness in the Healer's voice "I believe I can get you to agree."

"Good luck, then."

He squirms when the fingers dig in only slightly, "I don't think I'll need luck, not on this matter."


	231. Bedside

Fingers stroked through his hair, that was the feeling he woke to the next time consciousness came back to him, his head ached, it hurt to open his eyes but he forces himself to, he wants to see what's happening around him. He can hear movement, the rustling of robes and trousers and tunics, blankets and murmurs from sleeping patients, he _wants _to see it all. So he forces them open, forces himself to face what lays before him, and he flutters into wakefulness.

Golden eyes are watching him carefully, smiling when they make contact, "How are you feeling?"

He must have made a face because the Messenger breaths a soft laugh "Dumb question, I'm sorry, you gave us all quite the scare for a long while there."

Zaves looks down at his hands, swathed in bandages, and the Messenger followed his gaze "You got a bit of frost bite, there. But Raph say's it'll heal in no time." He nodded, weakly, against the archangels chest. Those fingers started petting through his hair again and he sighed in comfort. "You also took quite the knock to the head." He felt a slight tug on the bandages around his head, "But you'll be back to causing chaos again."

He looks up again, and the Messenger smiles down at him "Are you thirsty?" the young messenger nodded, causing the master to lean over to the side just slightly, fingers curling around the cup of cool water that lays on the side table, holding it up to his lips for him to take a sip. When the cups pulled away, he looks back up to his master with a question lighting his clouded eyes.

"I'm not going anywhere kiddo." Those fingers returned to his hair, running through, scratching at his head, "I'm here kiddo, I'm not going anywhere, I'm yours." He was gifted a weak smile for his promise, and rubbed a few fingers over his temple, "You try and get more rest, I'll be here when you wake up." The blankets pulled up to right under his chin, and those same fingers return to his hair, it's a gentle touch, soothing to the headache that was trying to wrack his brain.

Gabriel rubbed at his head, fingers threading through his hair, feeling the young one against his chest slowly drop back off to sleep. Nodding into his chest slightly, sighing deeply in relief as the stroking through his hair helped him in drifting back off to sleep.

"You too, baby brother."

A warm hand settled on his head and stroked down the back, and the Messenger looked up to meet his older brothers eyes, warm and caring.

"I will watch over you both."


	232. Bruise

They all stopped what they were doing, setting up the training field for the newest squads, turning to greet their constant companion as she entered through the stone archway. Playful greetings fell from their lips at the sight of the color on her cheek.

It stretched across, from her chin all the way around to the eye, a dark blue and purple splotch, that looked as though it smarted with every blink, and she bravely pushed through the pain as she was known to do.

The Powers gathered behind their captain as he knelt, reaching to grasp her chin at her approach, turning her head to the side to gain a better view of the damage done.

"Hi, Nis."

"Hello, Baby Power." He frowned at the darkness, it was fresh, possibly a day old at the very oldest "How did you come across such a mark?"

"I don't know what you're talkin' about, Nis."

The others exchanged looks behind him, and he stared her in the eyes, until she quickly averted them to the side under his intense watch, and he hummed in acknowledgement.

"I want a name."

"It's nothin' Nis!"

He shook his head, eyes firm, and he pulled her head back around to look into her eyes again, "That was not what I asked. A _name_, please."

"I can't!"

"You can either tell us, or, we can take the matter to the archangel. He has been in his office all morning. It is your choice. But either way, a name will be given."

She glared at him, smacking his hand away, retreating back a step "I'm sorry I even came to see you guys." He watched her retreat another step, and she yelped as she was scooped up into another's arms, Haniel grinned down at her when she turned to look at who had done the deed. "Now, don't be like that, little trickster, you're our Baby, we only ask because we care. Nisroc will go crazy knowing someone got to you and he couldn't put a stop to it."

The others nodded in agreement to their brother's words, even the Captain looked a bit begrudging as he too nodded in agreement, they were all quite fond of the little fledgling but none so much as their Captain was.

"Now," she looked up to meet the Power's shining eyes, though a tad concerned at the bruise that graced his close friends face, "Will you willingly give us a name, or, will we have to force that information from you?" she seemed to be weighing her options presented to her, and they exchanged amused glances as they could practically see the cogs working in her mind.

"Okay," she nodded after a good few minutes "I'll tell you."

"We thank you very much, Baby Power." Haniel hefted her higher on his arm, letting her curl her own over his shoulder and lean deeply against his side, "Though, we may still torture you a bit, 'cause it's just so much fun."

"No!"

"Yes!"


	233. Gasp

The two Winchesters and their Guardian were brought to a stand still when He appeared with four others, introducing them as His archangels, frowning when the older hunter spit out acknowledgement to the fact and they shuffled where they stood in shame. It would be a matter that was brought to the front later one, they had more pressing matters to be dealt with at the present moment, but He swore that He would return to this.

"Mikael is much too strong for even Me to take him on My own." He gestured to the four Archangels "Which is why I had asked them to join us."

Gabriel shuffled, muttering under his breath, the hunters couldn't make out what was said, but He clearly had, as well as the three elder Archangels, because they all turned to look at him with surprise. If he saw their glance, he made no acknowledgement of it, and stared down at his scuffed shoe.

"So, this is what we got; an archangel, an archangel turned pagan, a traitor, and Satan himself." Dean Winchester scoffed softly "Quite the assortment we have here, fellas."

"Not quite, I have asked a few others to join us, if we have the Commanders, we should have the Captains as well."

The four archangels looked at Him in surprise, and He nodded, even Gabriel looked up from staring at his shoe at the mention of the Captains. _His _Captain. He hadn't see him since, he flinched to himself as he thought of that time, since he'd _abandoned _him. Barely out of younglinghood, the youngest Captain to ever be named, and he'd left him without notice in the onset of a harsh ruthless war, with no instruction and no goodbye, leaving him to wake up missing his Commander and a Flock to run. He cringed at the thought of seeing him again, their last meeting hadn't ended on a nice note, having walked in on him hiding his horn away, and there was only reason he would be hiding his horn.

Zaveriel had called him a coward.

And he'd been gone by the next morning.

The four Captains of the Four archangels appeared to the side of their archangel, at a wave of His hand, and they finally took in each other for the first time since healing had begun. The humans, their angel, even He Himself, were pushed to the back of their thoughts as they stared right back into the eyes of the ones who would trust them to the ends of the earth, who would willing lay down their lives for them, and they had used that loyalty to dark advantage and turned them against their own family.

Michael broke away first, stepping to his Captain, both silent as the night, and he raised a single hand. The Power stood as still as a board, though he could see the unease that flashed before his gaze, and he pushed right passed it. Curling his fingers around the back of the tall angels neck, taller then the others, but in no competition on himself, pulling him forward to press their temples together.

"Nisroc, I owe you a thousand apologies, and then a thousand more."

"All is forgiven, Sir."

"Hardly, but I will work hard for it."

They shared a smile, his fingers tightening around his neck, and they stared into each other's eyes.

Raphael smiled down to his Captain, Oren looked nervous, but he returned the smile in kind. He caressed his cheek softly, his long nimble fingers brushing over his cheek and up behind his ear, "Hello, my little one."

"Commander."

"Now, now, none of that."

He rubbed a hand down the bridge of his nose and the Virtue smiled to himself, looking down to his boots when the hand was pulled away, and leaned to the left a slight bit more, brushing against his archangels side. A hand presses to the small of his back, as though the Archangel felt him rubbing against the archangels side, fingers curl around the back of his right hip, and he jumps forward slightly, enough that the archangel snorts softly, but not enough that they all witness it.

The short female, standing to the Morningstar's right, turned to look up at him silently. He turned to look down at her and smiled "Hey, Kokabiel." She smiled up at him, "Hey Luci." He tucked a strand of hair, one that snuck out of the tightly done ponytail, he had always been close to his Grigori and especially so after their fall one right after the other.

It was the one standing beside the Messenger that had them all snapping around, one attempt at greeting had been made, and the shorter angel pulled his arm back and punched him straight in the nose. The Messenger spin at the impact, hands flying up to curl over his now broken nose, and the youth shook his hand at his busted knuckles, glaring angrily at the Messenger.

"Don't you dare speak to me!"

The others stared at him in shock, the other Captains nodding in agreement from where they stood at their Commander's side, and the Archangels watched him in surprise. It was out of his character, to be so angered, and to attack at a moment's notice.

Both elders stepped to the side as the Healer stepped forward to examine the break, the young Captain at his side tightened his fists again, and a long nimble finger pointed at him in warning.

"I'll punch you too!"

"You wouldn't dare."

"Try me!"

The Healer turned to the side, snagging him by the ear, "Zaveriel, I understand your anger at the Messenger, and cannot fault you for your attack on him." Gabriel looked mildly offended "But you will _never _take such tone with me again, am I c_lear?"_

Zaveriel glared at him, and the Healer raised a single eyebrow, and he finally backed down.

"Fine, but I won't follow his command."

"That is your choice, if not him, then you will follow mine." His ear is released, and the Healer gestured over his shoulder as he turned to attend to the Messenger "Go stand with Oren."


	234. Kneel

"No, no" he rushed forward to pull the younger up from the floor, when he went down it would be a true trial to get back up again, "Don't do that." He grabbed onto the others arms to help him back to his feet "You do not need to do that." He helped with the struggle it took to get back to his feet, and then for the short trek back to the bed, guiding him to lay back down.

"I should—"

"You _should _be _resting_."

"I cannot _rest _anymore." It was stubbornness shining through, something that elated the other, it was a sign of growth and healing "I need to _move_."

"And, you can _move_ when you can do so without fear of falling with your cane."

"But I c_an _get out of bed."

Michael chuckles to himself, rubbing a few fingers over his cheek "Yes, you most certainly can." He gestures to his bare feet, "Do they ache?" his feet had been badly harmed during his stay in the prisons, there had been insurmountable damage done, and it had been by pure miracle that he retained his ability to walk, and they would readily admit that they were taking it as slow as one could, not wanting him to rush into anything.

The retired Sentry nods, and the archangel gives a soft hum as he shifts down the bed to pull his feet into his lap, his fingers are warm as they press into his arches, and he sighs in relief, the tension being pressed away by warm skillful fingers.

"Why must you insist on taking things so fast?" he dug the heel of his hand into the arch and stretched it as he pulled his hand upwards. He groans in soft relief, "I don't want to be bound here."

"You are hardly trapped."

"I am to this bed."

Michael huffed in amusement, turning to shot him a side glance, "Perhaps, you are confined to this bed. But it hardly means you are in as much danger as you were before."

"Doesn't it though?" Gadreel knows he is walking a fine line, he knows the look that crosses his features, but there is not much excitement he gets in being confined to a bed for most of his days while he heals from inflicted tortures.

"You think me to be torturous?" the fingers stop rubbing into his left foot as the archangel turns to look at him curiously, "Have I tortured you, 'Reel?"

"Always."

A single finger itches along the arch, and he lets go a bubbly laugh, tugging weakly at his captured foot.

"Is this a bit torturous?"

As the finger itches up towards his toes, the retired sentry gave a fledgling like giggle, and it makes the archangel smile at the sound of it.

"Mihicha!"

"Hush, I'm _torturing _you a bit." His fingers reach his toes and the laughter raises in pitch "These toes, these have always been my favorite." He pulled the toes back a bit and itched his finger up under the biggest toe, "They get you to the happiest you've been in such a long time."

_"__Whyhyhy!"_

"Because you need to laugh a bit more." He looked down at his feet, looking them over closerly, "They're rather clean, so clean, in fact, that I may just—"

…

Lucifer walked into their villa, his little bubbly fledgling on his arm, and turned to look down the hall at the bright shriek that drifted from his oldest brother's room, and he grinned down at the fledgling "Wanna bet I can make you shriek like that?"

The fledgling shook her head, giggling, as she looked up at him with bright joyful eyes.

He chuckled lightly "I'll bet I can." He lifted the fledgling up over his head, her little fingers curling around his wrists "I'll bet if I lift that little tunic of yours and press a few kisses into that chubby little belly, I can get you to make that noise."

"Luci no!"

"Oh, I'm gonna!"


	235. Numb

When they had returned, this time with the Messenger in tow, things had gone from the strides they had been making in rebuilding that trust that had been lost, back to the start again. At least, for one of the archangels, the others rallied around their own, as though if they did not, then they took would disappear like the Messenger had. They were quick in addressing those fears, calming the nerves that had built up at the treachery that had been committed.

He had not been expecting the warmest of welcomes when he returned to his Aerie, but the silence caught him by surprise, despite his expectation for it. His messengers still went about their duty, though with a different sort of hurry, not looking to meet his gaze, not stopping to say any word to him, it was as if he hadn't even returned.

The office was a mess, and he knew there was only one person who would be capable of causing this much damage within a place that was at the heart of the Aerie, and he stood in the doorway, staring at what remained of his ruined off, not knowing where to start in rebuilding it.

One was noticeably missing, he hadn't even made his return by the time night fell, and he slowly made his way picking through the damaged belongings that lay scattered on the floor. The Messenger pushed aside a plank of wood that had come from his desk and stared down at the ring that lay among the ruble. A purple geode, that had been gifted to them when they had been appointed as one of his Principalities, it lay there forgotten.

Gabriel fell to his knees, taking the simple ring into his palm, and closed his fingers around it tightly.

…

Commander and Captain were talking amiably between each other as they slowly descended on the Archangel's office, the Pavilion silent as the others made their way to their rooms for rest, the barracks of training squads silent in the night time hour, they joked quietly as they reached for their destination. The commander turned the handle to his office, pushing the door open, and the conversation broke when the other was spotted there. The Power grew still, silent, as he stared at the messenger that lean against the edge of the archangels desk. They had both witnessed what he was capable of when he was emotionally compromised, and his appearance here was surprising for them both, more so for the archangel then the Power, the Captain was often the others go to when things got tough in the Aerie.

They both knew immediately that this was because of the Messenger breaking his pact, for abandoning his flock, _again_, and they both felt a pang of pity for the other as there was only so much one could take before they reached their limit.

Michael stepped into his office tenderly, acting as though the other waiting at his desk was a wounded animal and might jump at a moment's notice. The messenger kept on staring at his boots though, not paying them any mind, and they wondered how long he had been waiting here.

"Zaves?" he spoke gently, not to startle the one who already sat on a fine trigger, "What can I do for you?"

Finally, the messenger looked up at them, and his eyes were haunted. He was so broken. Not an ounce of trust left in them. They had once shined as bright as the stars themselves, and were now as dull as pale gray, there was no life there anymore. It had been taken from him when he was betrayed in such a horrid way, allowed himself to believe again, and then betrayed _again_. Here was a person who had taken so much hurt and perhaps wasn't sure if they could take it again.

They had all seen that clear, from what had been made of the Messenger's office, he was small but he was a force to reckon with.

"You said there would always be a place here for me?", he stared straight at the archangel as he spoke, "That you would always have a place for me?"

Michael nodded, feeling his Captain step up behind him, just over his right shoulder, as both watched the messenger with concern. There was a distinct feeling on where this conversation was taking them, and while it wasn't e_ver _seen, it was _extremely _rare.

"Yes, I said there would always be a place here should you want it, I did say it and still stand by it."

"Good." The young messenger pushed away from the desk "I want to take you up on that offer."

Nisroc spoke for him, "Are you sure?" he was concerned for the younger angel, the one whom he considered a younger brother, the way he lay before them was enough to concern any of them "You would be denouncing your flock to join another?"

"Yes." Zaveriel nodded his head, mind already made, and his darkened eyes turned to look at the Power. "I know what it means. And I'm here to take the offer. Is it still extended?"

The archangel nodded quickly, stepping further into his office, "Of course, of course, it's always been extended." He looked once more at the angel his brother had broken so terribly, Zaves loved being a messenger, it was something he excelled at, not to say he didn't else where hence the reason the offer had been extended by the Commander, but he loved his flock.

_'__Loved' _being the key word.

"If you wish to rejoin my flock, you have a place among us." Michael nodded, meeting the gaze of his Captain, and Nisroc tilted his head upwards in acknowledgement, "Nisroc will tend to you at the moment. I trust you remember when training begins?"

Zaves nodded, thanking him all at once in a single nod, and allowed himself to be taken from the office by the taller angel, whom he looked up to as one would an older sibling.

Knowing that the newest re-recruited unofficial Power was in good hands, Michael fell back into the seat behind his desk, and heaved a weary sigh.

The Messenger had so carelessly broken on of Heaven's brightest of angels.


	236. Stumble

He knew it must have been the start of a bad day when the little thing came running into his Infirmary, his name on her quivering lips, tears streaming down her reddened face, both little knees skinned completely red. He handed off the basin he held to a passing young woman and bent at the right moment to lift the distraught little thing up into his arms.

"My little bear, what's happened?"

Little fingers curled into his deep green tunic, "H'rts! It h'rts!"

"Let's see what the damage is, shall we?"

The Healer lifted her up to sit on a spare bed, kneeling to take a closer look at the afflicted area. It had been skinned, most certainly from a fall on something rough, perhaps the stone of the Axis that she often skipped down to visit all the ones she had made into friends.

"Can I see your hands too, little bear?"

His fledgling nodded, lifting her hands for him to see, and just as he had suspected, they too were skinned red.

"Did you have a bit of a fall, little bear?"

She nodded, sniffling miserably, and he leaned forward to kiss her nose, "Big brother will fix it. You give me just a moment." The Healer stepped away to gather what was needed; some disinfectant, some rags to clean up the mess, and some bandages to bind them in for healing.

He returned swiftly, bending back down to care for her skinned little knees, "This is going to sting, little bear, I will not lie to you."

"Big brother, no owies, no!"

"You know I would never give any _'owies' _if I can help it." He looked up at her with gentle blue eyes "Hold onto my shoulder, little bear."

The fledgling leaned forward as she was told, fingers curling around his shoulders, clutching at the shoulders of his robes, bracing herself for when he presses the cloth of stinging disinfectant against her skinned knees, Raphael gives her one look of warning before he presses the cloth against the first skinned knee.

She whines pitifully, fingers curling deeper into the shoulders of his robes, her leg jolts a bit under his touch, so much so that he curls the fingers of his free hand around her ankle to keep her from moving too much.

As gentle as he can, he rubs into the skinned knee, clearing away any debris and getting to the fresh skin underneath, she jolts again "RaRa! Stop! Hurts!"

The archangel nods in sympathy, "I know, my little bear, we're almost done." He pulls the cloth away from the first skinned knee, nodding in satisfaction, and reaches for a bandage to wrap around it. Once that is nice and secure, he moved onto the next one, and she whines as she tries to pull her leg away from him before he can even think about disinfecting it.

But he catches it, rubbing a large hand over the underside of her calf, "We're almost done. Can you be brave for me, Baby Power?"

Rubbing at her eyes with the back of her left hand, she nodded pitifully, her grip on his shoulders returning once more as she steeled herself for the disinfecting of her second knee. He takes hold of her little leg once more, wetting another cloth with the disinfectant, and he presses it over the other little skinned knee. She jolts again, biting her lip to hold back the cry, but her little eyes fill with unshed tears. He makes quick work in cleaning up the second skinned knee, and binds it in another clean bandage, making much of the same quick work with the two skinned palms as well.

Akeelah sniffles, rubbing her teary eyes with her fingers, and he rinses his hands in a bowl of water and dries them with a large cloth. He is more then happy to lift the fledgling back into his arms when she reaches for him, letting her curl in close to him, fresh bandages around two skinned little knees and skinned little palms.

"What happened, little bear?"

She sniffled into his shoulder "I tripped, big brother."

"Did you?" he hummed softly, rubbing soothing circles on her back "You poor little thing."

"Will you make it all better, big bear?"

"Of course, little bear, always."


	237. Wail

The others around the Pantheon watched in morbid fascination as they fledgling threw herself to the ground, a scream on her lips, falling into the grasp of a mild temper tantrum as a child was wont to do when things didn't go their way. Her scream echoed down the silent hall, to the cracked door of the archangel, and they breathed a sigh of relief when the door opened. A head of blonde hair poked out from the office, icy blue eyes peering down to see what all the commotion was about, as he was in the midst of creating a new hymn book for their youngest flock members and had asked not to be disturbed.

He took one look at the little fledgling, so rarely to act out in such a manner, kicking feet and throwing fists, screaming and crying, and stepped out from his office.

"My, my." She screamed out in childish anger when fingers curled around her middle and lifted her from the marble floor, and he pressed her back against his chest, catching her little fists as they came flying at him instead "We are throwing quite the tantrum, aren't we?"

The others watch him take the fledgling into his arms, spare them all a smile, and turned to make his way back down the hall for his office, and the door clicked shut behind him.

He looked down at the struggling fledgling in his arms and tightened his grip, "You calm your little self down, right now."

Silence fell over the fledgling at the tone he used, looking up at him with wide reddened eyes, his expression in return was stern and commanding. He nodded at her silence, sitting back in the chair at his desk, settling her on his lap.

"Now, you want to tell me what that was all about?"

"T-T-They wouldn't let me come see you."

He tilted his head to the side "You mean to tell me, that tantrum there, was because of wanting to come see me and not being allowed to?" she nodded, her little bottom lip quivering as though more tears were going to begin to flow again, and the archangel tapped a finger against her lips "No, no. You've had your moment already, no more, now." She nodded pitifully, rubbing a little first to her eyes, sniffling deeply.

"Did you think to tell them that _you_ were allowed in?"

Again, the fledgling shook her head, sniffling still as she rubbed the back of her hand under her watery nose.

"Jus' wan'd y'u Lu'i!"

He sighed, reaching forward, her fingers curling into his tunic as he inadvertently leaned closer as he reached for a cloth to wipe her little nose, and he held it under her nose and instructed her to blow with a soft command. The Morningstar rubbed her little nose and set the cloth back on his desk, rubbing a finger up under her chin.

"Next time, just tell them you're allowed in, no more of this, okay?"

She nodded, reaching up for a hug, and he pulled her up for her desired affections, pulling him up to wrap her arms around his neck and tuck herself in close, her cold little nose pressing into the side of his neck.

Lucifer pat her little bottom lightly " You are lucky that I care for you as much that I do."


	238. Bite

It was rare that they managed to get time to spend together in these days, the boy no longer a fledgling, and often stuck in rough trainings with his dearest friend, or continuing his studies and art in his free time on days of rest. But today was one of those rare days, Resting Day had come again, the squad breaking off to do as they would, his friend going with the Commander to spend the day in the archangels garden after a long week of training, and Paul choosing to spend the day with a few friends that had been made through training, and it allowed them time to spend together.

Sasha followed the Power to their favorite sitting spot, where they had gone since he had been a young shy fledgling who hid more so behind his guardians leg then he did anything else.

They sat together, he leaning deep into the Power's side, an arm wrapped around him from behind, fingers curling around his left hip, "Have you made any more creations, little Sasha?"

"I'm not little anymore, Nis." A bristled face burrows into the side of his neck, a fond kiss pressed to a small spot up under his ear, and it makes him smile despite his protest, and lean away from the Power "You will always be my _'Little Sasha' _no matter how big you get."

"Nihihis!"

"Sorry, sorry." Though the amusement in his tone gave way to just how truly _unsorry _he was, "Show me your newest creations?"

The young angel nodded, pulling his beloved book out from the back of his waist, and the Power watched him with a raised eyebrow "You carry it around with you."

"Of course I do." He looked up at the Power when he felt the look he was being given "It's not odd."

"I never said it was."

"You didn't have to!"

Their playful banter brightened the afternoon sun shining over them, and he showed his guardian his newest drawings, the Power leaning over close over his shoulder taking in every page that was being shown.

"These are truly amazing, Sasha, you have great skill."

"I mean, they're okay, I guess."

"Nonsense," he rubbed a hand over a portrait of the Powers caught unknowingly in training. "They are magnificent." Sasha smiled at the praise. His guardian leaned closer, examining the drawing with more detail "Is that…Is that _gray _streaks you've given _me_?"

"I just drew what I saw."

"Are you saying I have _grays_?"

Sasha bit his lip to keep from smiling, but it broke through anyways, despite his attempts "I don't think I'm dumb enough to answer that."

Nisroc narrowed his eyes at his charge, slowly closing the book with one hand, and the fingers wrapped around his left hip tightened just a tad bit more, he began to squirm lightly.

"You think me to be _old_?"

"I didn't say that!"

"What was it you had said?", the bristled chin burrows back into his chest, a hand pulls his book from his hands and sets it aside, which works into his favor, as he scrunches up immediately and reaches up to clutch at the Power's tunic, giggles falling from his lips "You didn't have to."

The fingers on his hip dig in sharply, and he shrieks from it, throwing himself to the side in an attempt to get away from those fingers digging into his hip. But it only throws him closer to the older angel, the free hand curling around his upper thigh, pulling him down under the Power. The Power curls over him, his face still burrowed in his neck, one hand squeezing at his hip, and the other squeezes at his thigh.

His thighs had always been his worst spot, if there was one place to go to get him real good, it was always his thighs. When he was a small fledgling, Nisroc used to throw him over his shoulder, standing in the middle of his room, the lounge of the Pavilion, and dig into them as much as he pleased until his charge's laughter had gone silent and fists beat against his back.

His guardian finally pulled away from his neck, instead leaning in to press their temples together, their eyes gazing into each others.

"Do you want me to show you just how _old_ I am?"

Sasha shakes his head, smiling brightly up to the Captain, "Noho!"

"Oh, but I think I do."

"Yohou dohon't!" the Power smiled at the giggles he produced from his quite charge, he'd only grown quieter with age, kneading lightly into his thigh "I swehear!"

"Are you sure?" he smiles at him, kissing his nose in this rare playful moment, they used to be quite frequent when he was young, but began to tapper off as he grew older "I'm more then happy to show you."

"I'm ohokay!"

Fingers curl around his right wrist lightly, a playful glint shining in his guardians eyes, "I think I'll just show you anyway." And his arm is lifted away as the Power buries his face into his side, it had made him shriek as a fledgling, laughing brightly into the space around them, and it still gained the same reaction even now.

Sasha braced his left hand against his guardians shoulder, intending to try and push him away, until he felt he bite to his side, and he threw his head back with a loud shriek and laughter overtook him, his fingers curling into the shoulder of the Power's tunic, which allowed the other hand to latch onto his other side.

"Yohohour ahahahhare not ohohold!"

"Oh, I know," his guardian pulled away, sitting back up to look down at him, as fingers curled around the wrist of his other hand, "I'm just reminding you of that fact."

"Nis! Nohohoho!"

He burrows into his other side and the boy arches into his chest, laughing mightily, "Buhuhut yohohou ahahahare gohohoing grahahahay!"

Though, he only dug himself his own graze, when the Power lifts the side of his tunic and buries his face back into his side again, he screams in laughter and struggles to get away. Somehow they end up sprawled out, the Power on his back, him hugged securely to his chest, a bristled chin buried in his neck and fingers digging into both of his sides.

He doesn't truly stop until he apologizes.

It takes a while.


	239. CPR

"Lay him there, lay him down, move with haste!"

It had been the third attack in a row, solidifying the notion that someone was going out of their way to target the messenger and fledgling whenever they saw the opportunity, and it set the council on guard, closing the gates for the time being, locking those within and unfortunately locking the ones stationed on earth out, though not unprotected, garrisons had been deployed to assist them in every step, no one angel was to be on their own. Not until these attacks could be delved into and interrogated.

This time, the fledgling seemed to have been spared the collapse into the frigid waters, having been pushed onto the thicker ice cap when their precarious position had finally cracked through, she stumbled, falling forward on the solid ice, turning to watch as her friend fell through the ice _again_.

These attacks were far from coincidence; the first was a cruel disadvantage, the second a coincidence, but the third, that was to be taken as a planned attack.

She stood back, curled in thick blanket, tucked into the leg of the choir master as she watched them lay her unconscious friend down on the solid metal table, over the thin sheet that had been placed. They all stood around, antsy to step in, waiting for any possible order to be given, as the Healer tore the messengers tunic open to reveal his pale dripping chest, he bent the head back, pressing his ear to the messengers mouth, and his eyes widened at the lack of sound that came from within. He moved to press his ear to the young messengers chest, all of them silent so he may hear what he was listening for, "He has water in his lungs!"

Another healer had long since begun chest compressions, following a beat, one two three, one two three, over and over again.

All around them; healers and the bedbound, watched as they tried to revive the unconscious messenger.

After thirty seconds of compressions, the Healer bent and pressed his mouth of the messengers, blowing into his throat as much as he could manage, and then nodded for the other to begin the compressions anew once more.

It took some time, what felt like a life time, the three other Archangels watching anxiously, a tiny fledgling staring up where her beloved friend lay as still as the dead, Principalities and Virtues and Powers standing behind them all as though to block out any outsiders from witness something that was so personal between them. But, after that lifetime seemed to pass, they finally had some progress, both healers jumped back when the messengers eyes flew open, choking on a mouth full of regurgitated water, and he was turned quickly onto his side to let the swallowed water that had been slowly drowning flow from him as it drained in massive waves of heaves.

There was a collective sigh of relief among them all, none so much as the fledgling and the two Archangels who stood closest to the messengers heart. The Messenger looked as though he wanted to rush for his Captain, but knew better then to step forward without his older brother's permission, and he watched closely as the Healer finally sat him up, patting between his shoulder blades like one did an infant, to force the remaining obstruction free, and thus more water came spilling from him.

When the flow of water seemed to dry out, he coughed harshly at the regurgitation, bracing himself with his arms as he began to shiver.

"Those….Those _bastards_."

It was the fledgling that broke through the surrounding barrier of adults, ducking under hands and legs, running forward for her friend. Zaves bent over the side of the bed to catch her, and they hugged each other as close as they could, neither wanting to let go. This had been the third time that they'd been attacked while out together, and it was the only time that the messenger had pushed her out of harms way before taking the plunge once more, and they clung onto each other in the same fashion, the others were sure, that they had during those rough nights when such friendship was hard to come by.

"Zaves, I thought I lost you!"

"You can't get rid of me that easy!" he tugged on her damp braids "I'm like a—"

"Rash!"

He laughed, a bit scratchier then it should be, and it ended with a cough, but they all stood on edge to see what he would say in return.

"Exactly! I'm like a rash, can't get rid of it even with medicine."

The Healer sighed deeply, as he turned to gather up a few things, though there was notable relief in the sigh, as there was running through everyone else, that the messenger was able to joke (despite how terrible it may have been) and it solidified the fact that everything would be okay.

And with that knowledge in mind, Heaven's Commander and Strategist, Michael and Lucifer, left them to investigate these attacks on their own. This was becoming a personal affront to their own family, and the wrath of Heaven's archangels would rain down on whom ever dared seek to harm their family.

It was a notion, their combined anger and power directed at one being, or a group, seeing as to what damage had been caused with their tempers and anger and strength turned on each other, there was no telling what could be with all of that power focused together in alliance.


	240. Choke

Being inducted into the Powers was no easy task, not even for one that had trained under them through the war, one that had been taught under the Captain's personal tutelage, one who had single handedly brought him to his knees.

He had walked out to the training field, at the other Captain's side, and walked into a various crowd. Some looked confused, others looked put out, some looked irritated that a short _messenger _would gain such a place at the Captain's side when they had been training harder from day one.

"You can't, of course, just join the ranks."

"I'm not joining a beginners class."

The Power spared a concerned look over his shoulder, knowing that his archangel would be standing a few paces behind, and their eyes met for a brief moment. Something in the messenger had been broken, the Messenger leaving his flock again had created more damage then could quite possibly be fixed, the Council had to convene at the number of messengers who requested to be transferred to a new flock. The only ones who remained were the ones who had been raised as messengers, due to knowing that there had to be messengers to deliver what was needed delivered, but others had requested out. The quantity had been alarming, and there was no valid reason to deny such request, and the Messenger sat back and watched as the Council approved each and every transfer request, and his flock grew smaller and smaller.

The messengers could forgive him for leaving them the first time, it had been a time of war, and while it was no excuse, they all had done regretful things during the wartime. But for him to leave again, as they rebuilt and peace reigned, there was no excuse, and no further forgiveness. The Aerie had been broken, the messengers torn apart by the abandonment for the second time, and while they had known that it would not end well, they had never guessed the type of fallout it would have.

There had been one, quite memorable, a strong willed female with long midnight dark hair, that had glared at the Messenger at her own Council meeting for request of transfer who had spoken what the others were not brave enough to say _'You wanted to be alone, then be alone' _and had been welcomed into the Healers flock with open arms.

Zaveriel had changed, with his flock, and had sought out the head of the council himself to request the transfer, and it had been granted just the night previous. The lightheartedness had deserted him, leaving behind only a hard shell, emptiness that did not belong in his eyes. He was sharp, harsh, and focused. The damage done by the Messenger had been lengthy.

The Power nodded slowly, turning back from his moment of silent conversation with his archangel, "_No_, but—"

"I'm _not _giving up my blades either. Don't even ask."

There was a certain way things were run here, and though he always had a spot among them, that still came with earning the title.

"There are wa—"

"I don't _care_ what your _ways _are. I'm not doing it. End of the line, story completed, it's not happening."

"You have to earn your place among us." Nisroc felt worry warm in his chest at the darkened eyes that turned to glare up at him "Though it was reserved you cannot come in and surpass others who have worked for years—"

"I'll fight _you _if I have to." Others gasped at the challenge "But I'm _not _being demoted."

It was then that the archangel joined them, coming to stand at the Power's right shoulder, ignoring the captive audience they had "You were demoted the moment you transferred from the Messenger's flock to mine."

"I'm _not _going to a _beginners class_."

"Very well." There was only one who could allow one to exceed set guidelines, and that was the Commander who could only allow such things, and others exchanged looks as he allowed it in this moment for the messenger who had transferred to their flock "Puriel, Abraxos, come forward."

The Powers stepped up to his side at the request, and Michael gestured towards the messenger "If you wish to earn your place among us, you will face them."

"Together?"

He nodded "Together."

Zaveriel nodded once, his grip on his blades tightening, as he dropped into the position he favored when in battle. The two Powers fell in stance with him, and with the call from the commander, their battle began. It was a marvel to watch, the messenger was lithe and agile, as all messengers were. He slid under the swings of blades, rolled over one's back to get to the other, and had quickly neutralized Puriel, before turning to focus completely on Abraxos. They fought together for a long moment, dodging and hacking and swinging, dancing in the way that warriors do. And then the ex-messenger used his height to his advantage, jumping up from the Power's slightly bent knee, to perch himself on his shoulders, holding his blade off to the side as he curled his arm around the other's neck and squeezed.

Abraxos coughed, eyes going wide at the lack of oxygen, and after a few more minutes, his blade fell to the ground as he scrabbled at the ex-messenger's arm.

"Called, you've proven yourself, release him."

But he either didn't hear, or he blatantly ignored it, however the messenger didn't release his hold. His grip remained as strong as ever, his arm tight around the Power's throat, and Abraxos choked for a breath as he fell to his knees and bent over in an attempt to flip the compromised messenger from off his back.

"Zaveriel, _release _him."

The Power's face was turning purple in color, the choking becoming sluggish, when they finally stepped in. The Archangel pried the messengers arm from around the Power's neck, pulling him back with him a few paces, as the others converged on their fallen brother.

"I did _everything_." The messenger tore himself from the archangel's grasp, throwing his own blades to the ground, as he buried his fingers into his hair, the true pain from the simple action from the Messenger finally rearing it's head, and all eyes turned to watch him "_Everything _he said! I followed every _stupid _order! Protected that _worthless _seraph he's so fond of! I did _everything_! And it wasn't _good enough!"_

Abraxos had taken a couple of minutes, but he had since recovered, having sat up to watch the messenger slowly lose his composure. They all had, the Powers, the surrounding crowd, they all watched as he broke completely.

As he screamed and the grass under his feet began to wither and smoke.

As he pulled at his hair, eyes wide in disbelief "He left! _Again_! Why weren't we _good enough_? What had we _done_?"

"Zaves?"

He pointed a finger at the Captain in warning "You stay _away _from me_._"

"Zaves, it's okay."

The Archangel dismissed the others with a wave of his hand, and though they loath to leave the scene playing out before them, they didn't dare disobey an order from their archangel. Michael held a hand up for the Power to stop his advance, coming up behind the young messenger, it had surprised him when he chose to come here instead of back to the Healer (he had a weak stomach-which made no sense given to his escapades), but he vowed to speak to his brother on the matter later. Raphael was one of the few that the messenger still trusted after all of this, he had raised him, it was no surprise.

"I know it hurts."

He wrapped his arms around the shivering messenger from behind, he fought against him at first, and then clutched tightly to his arms as they fell slowly to the ground, the crack crumbling into an abyss of broken emotion.

"But it'll be okay."

Silently, he cursed his younger brother, he loved Gabriel dearly and he always would, but the Messenger had never stopped to think of the consequences that could be arisen from his actions and now he had a third of the flock he'd once proudly led.


	241. Woman

"Personally," Akeelah returned from the washrooms at the conversations from others, the ones that had been sent to Nisroc's office with them when they had been caught fighting in the Armory by a passing trainee who had run to get the Captain, infighting was not tolerated by any Power within their training squad, and they all took similar approach when reaffirming that rule on those who decided to test it, they clearly hadn't learned, hence the reason for the insult she was sure to come, "I don't think _girls _should be allowed to be warriors." She took a deep breath, choosing to ignore them and sit next to Sasha on their bunk, lacing her boots up as the other flipped the page in the book he had taken from the Captains room to read during these moment's of downtime "They're better suited as healers and messengers. There's no real place for them on the battlefield. They're just _not _as _strong _as we are. It's a disadvantage, honestly."

It was true, a sad fact, most females chose between the Healer' and Messenger's flock, sometimes the Choir, but rarely did they pick the Warriors. It's far and in between, and they have to work twice as hard, to prove ones like _him _wrong and that they could stand just as _strong _as anyone else could.

Kokabiel was an example, the lieutenant of the Grigori, right under the Captain, Semyaza, she was short, just like Akeelah was, and lithe. She could take anyone on, being twice her size or shorter, it made no difference. When the Grigori and Powers trained together, is was Nisroc that she always chose to train with, the two of them were good friends, Nisroc was well liked by most, and they stood on equal footing in regard to an opponent.

Then, there was Akriel, she served under the Principalities, and was just as deadly as they came. She was efficient and agile, as messengers were, easily keeping up with the others in battle.

And, Flagstaff, in the Virtues, she was a force to reckon with. She was like the raw fury of a hurricane in full swing. She could move through the enemy with ease and precision, the close eye of a healer only adding to her advantage, she could pinpoint weakness from a mile away and exploit it to her advantage in battle.

Akeelah swore to be just like them, it was her goal to become an _official_ Power, the _first female_ Power there had ever been. She knew that they would never see her as anything but the warrior she was, they were equal in their practices, and if she was worthy of the title and position, they would allow her in the trials.

She knew that Sasha felt the same way. He wanted to be like Nisroc, and she knew her friend could do it, he had determination like no one else she knew, and he wanted to help those who weren't strong enough to help themselves, so they didn't have to live through what he did.

Sasha squeezed her leg tightly, when he felt her stiffen, and she turned quickly to look at him. They were close friends, of course Zaves would always be the first and best friend, but her and Sasha were a close second in relationship.

"Don't."

"I wasn't."

"Sure." He squeezed her leg a second time and flipped the page in his book, "He was lenient the last time, do you want to test that leniency with another brawl, I can promise it would hold the same."

She grimaced at the thought of it, she knew he wouldn't be, after seeing what infighting could do firsthand, Nisroc absolutely had zero tolerance for it in his squad, the others were of the same sentiment, and dealt with it with the firmest of hands. Though he had sworn to her, when she had grown older and had gotten into a bit of trouble, that he would never strip her bare over his desk, he would hold her to the same punishment of everyone else, with that being the only stipulation.

They believed in equality among all of them, even when it came to disciplining an infraction to the rules that had been made clear from the very start of their squad but were not indecent, nor cruel, on the matter. There was certain extenuating circumstances that would cause minor changes in the way comeuppance was delivered; such as one being female, or having the past that Sasha did, among various other things.

"He's just so—"

She punched her fist into her other hand, and her friend needed in agreement, without looking up from the book he had been reading.

"Trust me, I get it." And then on a more amusing note "Did you see Samael's face when Nis told him what would happen if he destroyed anyone else's things?"

"He looked like he was going to wet himself and cry at the _same time!"_

They both shared a small giggle at the memory of it, Nisroc had been furious to know that someone in his training squad had taken to destroying others belongings and had been very vivid and firm in his promise on what would come to pass should it happen again. The Captain had gotten him a new book, the next time he'd gone to the vendors, and had gifted it to him on the anniversary of their becoming official guardian and charge.

He kept it in his trunk, and knew that Samael would never dare touch it again, everyone knew that the Captain's threats were to be taken with the utmost sincerity.

He may have learned that lesson, but nothing more had changed, he was still just as cruel as before.

They had just learned to ignore him, he was jealous, they knew he was, that his guardian had been a simple Guardian of Earth while they had grown with archangels and Powers as theirs. There was no shame in being a Guardian of Earth, honestly, in their opinion, they were just as brave as any warrior was.

"Besides." He marked his page as he too reached down to lace his boots, training to begin at half passed five, and it being fifteen minutes till, "You can show him on the training field. Just don't make it obvious and you'll fly under the radar."

Their Captain appeared in the entrance to their barrack, rousing them up for one on one training. There was two different sorts, group training, when they all joined each other and every stage and class of warrior, to train among them. And then there was one on one training, where it was the Mentor that instructed them, and they mock fought with each other.

…

"Akeelah, Samael, partner, show us what you've been taught in todays lesson."

Nisroc watched the two of them step forward, he knew of the animosity between them, and thus they were watched with careful and close attention. The others stood at his sides, watching the two of them square off and fall into their stances, Sasha smirked, standing directly at his left shoulder, and he turned to look at the expression with a raised eyebrow. The young angel merely shrugged, but he knew better, and turned back to watch them with closer attention.

Akeelah used her height to her advantage, bending low, resting on her toes to enable her to spring about with ease. He dark curls braided tightly down her head in one massive dark braid, little golden beads and rings braided among it, and he took notice of the golden ring around the upper helix of her ear that had not been there just the week previous, her eyes already focused on the opponent at hand. She held her two daggers backwards, it was a rare form, few used it, but it was one that she excelled with, especially with ones who stood taller then her.

Meanwhile, Samael stood straight, on the balls of his feet and shoulders stiff. His stance was a bit on the sloppy side, and would most certainly hold him back in training if not corrected sooner, and he held his sword's hilt with both hands, his primary form of attack being swings and hacks with it. He was taller then the one he face, at least a head and a half, and seemed by under the impression it gave him the advantage even before the spar had begun, the Power could see it in his eyes.

"Make ready."

They stared off, waiting for his command to begin.

Samael smirked at the short angel, whispering "I promise to go easy on you, _honey_."

"I won't." she smiled back at him, it was a biting smile, and she bounced as she waited for the call to be given.

"Go."

He swung first, a heavy handed blow, that would have caused quite the injury had she not ducked down when she had, easily allowing the sword to glide over her head as she darted forward and swept his legs out from under him. He fell on his back with a thud, and a wheeze, and she was immediately there, dagger under his chin, and she dug it in a bit for emphasis, "Don't _ever _call me _'honey'_."

"Reset."

They returned to their previous stances.

"Go."

This time she made the first move, he saw her going for his legs this time and dodged her sweep, managing to drive his sword lower and catch her in the shoulder. Pause was called when blood dripped down the slash, and she shook her head when a healer was called for in inquiry, rubbing the blood away with her hand.

Nisroc narrowed his eyes, something was happening, something that the two before him were in on, something his nearly grown charge was knowledgeable of, from the smirk he had when his friend brought Samael to his back. But he couldn't place what it was for the life of him.

Watching them with the eyes of one who had raised two rambunctious boys, cared for a rambunctious troublesome fledgling, he looked between the two carefully.

"Are you well, Akeelah?"

She nodded, wiping the blood on her tight-fitting leather tunic, and fell back into her stance.

"Very well, you _will _get it looked over at evenings end, _understood?_"

After the last time, he was not willing to take the chance that she wouldn't get herself taken care of. It had been late into the evening before he had allowed her to return to the barrack, and quite an extensive talk, he knew the reason she had not said anything was because she had wanted to prove that she was as tough as the others were and hadn't just been given this chance because she was raised by the Commander and was close friends with the Captain. He had assured her that there was no shame in seeking help when wounded.

Still, she went red in the face, the tips of her ears turning a deep amber, "Understood."

"Good. Reset."

Again, they fell into their stance, and this time she again made the first move, dodging under his swing, she glided around his side and kicked the back of his knee out, he toppled over at the blow and she pulled him back against her as he fell, bracing her arm around his forehead and her dagger under his chin.

The Captain called time, but she ignored him for a moment, digging the blade in until a dot of blood appeared, "And I'm not a _girl_, I'm a motherfucking


	242. Flock

"Come, come," he rubbed a hand over the messengers shoulders as they walked into the garden side by side, he had promised the night before to groom his wings, something he hadn't done in such a long time, and he himself would cherish every moment of it, "Let us find a warm patch to stretch out in." He lets the messenger lead them in, wandering through the garden in search of the most perfect spot, if there was anyone whom you wanted to groom your wings, it was the Healer, he knew how to get too all those good spots, there was no one else who would have him so excited at having his wings groomed.

The Healer allows himself to be tugged to a rather large sunspot, the messenger tugging him down with him, and he chuckles at the fledgling like excitement that exudes from the young messenger. Bright eyes turn up to him and he nods, lifting his arms slightly, and the messenger throws himself across his lap, curling his arms around his left knee and presses his cheek to his thigh.

"May I release your wings?"

His young messenger nods against his leg, and he presses a few fingers to the slight space between his shoulder blades, and bright sun soaked orange wings materialize from the pocket reality that they keep their wings in when they're not presently in use. They flare slightly at their sudden appearance, and tamely fall spread open before him to see.

The feathers were ruffled, dusty from consistent flight between realities and atmospheres, and he quirks an eyebrow at their appearance, tugging on secondary coverts. The messenger squawks and turns to look at him in question at the tugging on his feathers.

"When was the last time you had your wings groomed, they are atrocious."

"It hasn't been _too _long." At the look he gains, he is quick in amending himself "A short while."

"Zaveriel." The Healer shakes his head fondly, exasperated and amused all at the same time, and he reaches out for the task that lies ahead of him. He rights the primaries first, sifting and sorting through the feathers, tugging out the ones that are near ready to molt free themselves, and turning them back in the direction they are meant to be. He rubs his fingertips over the ends, clearing the dust away with a gentle rubbing, and hums as he works his way up to the primary coverts.

Quite a few are ruffled, from constant sharp turns and messenger agility, and he straightens them as gently as he can, brushing them back into place with gentle fingers.

"You should be doing this at least once a month."

The messenger nods against his leg, sedately, grooming has always made him extremely sleepy "I know."

"And why don't you?"

"Dunno."

The secondaries are much more ruffled then the primaries, as he sifts and sorts through the individual feather with care and ease, the young messenger is nearing a molt and he can tell this from the amount of feathers he can rather easily pull free.

Raphael straightens a few crooked ones, and smiles in melancholic amusement, "I remember when you were young," he straightens a particularly stubborn feather "You _loathed_ getting your wings groomed. You always fidgeted about and squirmed."

"Because it was so boring."

He nodded in remembrance, it had been a task in itself to get the, then, young healer to sit still long enough to complete the needed maintenance.

"Do you remember what I would do when you got particularly stubborn about it?"

Bright eyes turned to glare at him, "Don't you dare."

"But you are in quite the perfect position for it."

The glare intensified, "I _mean _it."

He held his hand up in surrender, "I give you my word." And he returned to his grooming. He brushed a few fingers under the scapulars, digging under the feathers, to the soft skin underneath. The messenger jolted in his lap, turning an accusing glare back at him "Hey!"

"I didn't do anything."

The messenger narrows his eyes, giving him the _'I'm watching you' _gesture, and curls back down again.

With him being turned away, he doesn't see the look that brightens the Healer's eyes, but he feels the sharp dig into the skin of the scapular again, and this time he gives a light shriek as he jolts, as though electrified.

"I swear to you, I'm not doing anything."

"You're such a fucking liar!"

He tut's softly, look down to the wing that lays closest to him "Such language." He takes hold of the wing tip, "We should deter that, mindful of fledglings who might pick up such a nasty habit."

"Raph, I'm warning you," The messenger tries to tug his wing away, and upon the realization that he can't, settles for glaring at the archangel instead "Don't you _dare_."

"Oh, now you're _'warning' _me, are you?" he moves his hand quickly, leaving the scapulars be, and digs under the feathers of his primaries for the sensitive flesh underneath. The messenger releases a loud shriek and shifts onto his side, trying to push away "_Whatever _shall I do?"

"Rahahaphahahaa! Nohoho!"

"No?" he slowly drifted his hand downwards, lifting the wing lightly, to travel down to the underbelly, and the messenger rolled out of his lap, howling with delighted laughter, "Now I just want to _even _more."

The archangels skillful fingers found a particularly special place, focused in there a bit, and chuckled when the messenger beat his fists against the ground under him.

"And to think, this is only one, what would it be like if there were two of us?"

He got no response of course, not that he was expecting one, and he looked up as another stepped out from the trees to their sunspot, nodding his head in greeting.

"Hello, brother."

"Raph, I see you're torturing my Captain."

The Healer nodded, the both of them acting as though there was not currently a youthful angel howling with laughter between them, sharing an amused smile.

"I invited you, I thought you may like to attend to your Captain's other wing."

The Messenger chuckled, capturing the other wing in a similar grip to his brother's, stretching it out as he lowered himself to sit on his knees.

"I would love to join you, brother."


	243. Gash

"Little brother," the Healer turned at the sound of his oldest brothers voice, leaving his class to whisper among themselves as he turned to address the situation, his eyes widening at the sight of their fledgling curled around the Viceroy's side "We have a bit of a situation." He nodded, stepping forward to see what needed addressing, "What seems to be the problem?"

"We had a bit of an accident."

The older archangel raised the fledgling a bit, wincing at the flinch that was gained, and pulled back a cloth that hid a quite large gash running up the inner side of her arm. He hummed, taking the little arm in hand, turning to get a better view of it.

"What seems to have happened?"

"We got a bit too close to a sword, though, I don't believe it deterred our young friend from getting too close again."

Raphael hummed again, leading them to the bed he'd been standing next to while training his class, "I will fix you up as new again."

The fledgling whined pitifully as he reached for a needle and thread, curling closer to the Viceroy as though to hide away from the ensuing suturing. Michael held her firmly though, holding her arm out for the Healer to get too, and not one to pass up a learning opportunity, the third born archangel gestured for his class to gather around to witness the proper way to suture a wound that needed suturing.

"Be brave for me, little bear."

The fearless fledgling let vulnerability show just this once, there was a fear of needles that was not known by most of any outside of the circle of people she had created for herself, and she shied away as best as she could, shaking her head at the command to be brave, and tried to tug her arm back.

"No RaRa."

"I know you don't like it, little one," he nodded for his brother to keep the fledgling still and leaned over the wound, steeling himself against the soft protests of the fledgling. Michael was forced to cross his leg over hers when she tried to kick out at the other, in any attempt to keep him from doing what needed done "But it must be done to ensure that it heals properly."

She whines pitifully, crying out, when the needle is first pricked into her arm, having to be held tighter to keep her from jumping away. She cries, harsh sobs tearing from her small chest, as the needle goes in and out and in and out, sealing the wound closed. He reaches for a rag, sitting back for his class to see the tight close knit sutures, and wipes away the fresh red blood that had soaked through at every stitch.

Akeelah sobs harshly, her free hand clutching tightly at the oldest archangel's tunic, and he rubs a few fingers over her little hand. The Healer passes him a cloth that he pulled from somewhere in the folds of his robes to wipe at the little sniffling nose, and he did, brushing it under her nose and softly instructing her to blow, and she did as instructed, blowing her nose into the cloth.

The Healer leaned forward and pat her cheek softly "You did so good, little bear." He rubbed the tears away with his thumb "The hard part is passed now." His class stepped back as their archangel instructor stood up once more, stepping away from the elder as he too climbed to his feet.

"Why don't you rest a bit?" he turns to look at his older brother, raising his chin lightly, as if indicating this was his instruction to follow "This has been quite an ordeal for you."

The eldest nodded, brushing his lips over her temple, curling his fingers over her cheek when she lays on his shoulder, and he curls her close mindful of her injuries.

"I do believe we will do just that, a nap is indeed in order."

The Healer nods, handing him a jar of small leaves, "Mix these into a drink every few hours to help fight off infection." He nods and takes the jar with his free hand, "But let her rest up as much as she can. It's been quite an eventful afternoon for this little one."

She sniffled, curling up against the oldest archangels shoulder, forehead brushing against the side of his neck. The Healer smiles at the fledgling, squeezing her calf gently, "You take a good rest, little bear."

They left there soon after, making a quick stop to the training field to alert the Captain to take control of training for the rest of the day, as he had other engagements to tend to that involved a certain little fledgling who had been through quite an ordeal. His Captain had been more then happy to take over, wishing the fledgling well again, and they made their departure for the Archangel Villa in their garden, to the eldest brother's bedroom at the end of the hall.

His bed was big and soft, white airy blankets, and large fluffy pillows. He set her down on his bed, right in the middle, where it was still warm from his laying there just early that day, and she curled lightly into his blankets being careful of her stitched arm.

Promising to be there in just a single moment, to kick his boots off and remove his leather jacket that he wore over his light tunic, before climbing in with her. Immediately, the fledgling curled back around him, laying her wounded little arm across his stomach, "Micha, it hurts." He brushed a hand over the back of her head "I know it does, my little star, the pain will fade before you know it.


	244. Plead

"Please."

"I don't think so."

"_Please!"_

"I repeat my previous statement."

The others watched in amusement as the messenger followed the Healer around, as he tended to his duties around the Infirmary, begging to be allowed something that was not in their privilege to know, but whatever it was, they did know, the Healer was not giving into the request.

"Raph, _Pleeease_!"

"I think not."

He followed after him, leaning over his shoulder when the Healer sat to tend to a long gash on another's leg, not giving up on his begging, "Raph, _pretty please_!"

"No."

The archangel grunted when the messenger fell limp hanging over his shoulder, arms hanging limp over his shoulders and down his chest, the Healer pat his hands when he made to stand up, and the messenger knew not to push his luck and moved, following after him as he moved on his way.

"_Raph! _I'm _begging _you!"

"My answer is no," he turned, having grown tired of the begging, and pointed a stern finger into his face "Which if my _final _answer." He wagged that same stern finger when the messenger opened his mouth "And if I hear _one _more plea I will turn you bare in front of e_veryone _here."

The messenger went cross-eyed, staring at the finger pointed in his face, and he opened his mouth to respond, closed it again, opened once more, and closed it for the final time. The Healer nodded once, and turned to continue on his way, with the messenger following close behind. Though his pleadings and begging had come to a stop, his following had not, and he was soon to call over his shoulder "Silent begging still counts as begging, Zaveriel."

He huffs, falling next to him as he kneels before another, "You're being a jerk."

"I know, I'm the absolute worst."

"You are!"

"Truly."

Behind them, Oren finally comes up, placing a hand on both of their shoulders. He's chuckling in amusement, having watched the two of them for some time.

"What does he want?"

"To borrow my staff."

The Virtue raised his eyebrows in surprise "For _what_?"

"I don't care to know just what he wants it for. It's not going to happen."


	245. Shudder

The fledgling was nice and toasty, before descending into the snowy weather to investigate the odd business that Father had asked them to investigate, the others brought with them were bundled up as was necessary given the climate they had known they were coming into. The four Archangels bundled up in thick coats, gloves, hats to keep in the warmth from their heads.

Powers were decked out in warm thick coats, thick pants, ready for battle despite the atmosphere around them.

Even the fledgling was bundled up warmly, a purple mitten holding onto her master's gloved hand.

The _only _one who was not bundled warmly in a thick coat was the young Captain of the Principalities, they had been ordered to the front so quickly, took to the field in such succession, that he hadn't had time to grab his own thick coat on the way and left without it.

Behind him, watching his shivering with close protective gazes, the Messenger and Healer exchanged looks. The younger of the two nudged the Morningstar on his left, the only one who thrived in such cold temperatures, and wouldn't mind giving up his coat to someone else. The elder looked to the one who was motioned to, and nodded, letting the little mitten'd hand go to shrug his coat off, passing it off to the Messenger as he took back the little mitten'd hand back in his own.

The two of them stepped forward, Messenger wrapping his brothers large coat around the young messenger, the Healer removing his own warm hat from his head to tug down over the messengers ears and eyes.

Zaves startled, at the sudden weight of the coat and the covering of his eyes from the cap, reaching up, his hands swallowed by the sleeves of the Morningstar's coat, and pushes the cap up from over his eyes.

Two different hands pat him on the head "Next time remember your own coat." He smiles at them, pulling the sleeves up so he could get to his hands, so he may zip up the coat. "We left too fast."

Gabriel grins, patting him on the back of the head "We would have waited for you."

"I didn't want to cause any hold up."

A large hand turned his head around, "I'm quite sure." His eyes met those of the Healer's "And when you catch a cold, I will remind you of that while I force you to take your medicine."

"I'm not gonna get sick." He swiped the hand off of his head "I'm a bad bitch, they can't get me."

"Sure you won't, and I won't tell you _'I told you so' _, later when I know you will come to visit for a while."

Zaveriel glared at them, "I hate you both."

"You do not."

"That is most certainly untrue."


	246. Chains

When the war was called to an end, the prisoners whom had been unjustly sentenced were released without delay, the flocks that had been torn apart were reestablished once more. He had been the one who had gone in search of the messenger, to release him from his confines himself, after all, it was him who had brought him here that time ago.

His insides twisted with guilt as he passed cell after cell, the grated doors opening slowly as inmates cautiously stepped out, looking down on end of the hall and then up, as though this was some sort of false hope that was being given. It took him some time, passing a number of cells along the wall, until he found the one he was looking for.

Inside sat a dirty figure, hunched over on themselves, as silent as the night. He pulled the grated door open slowly, it scratched harshly against the floor, and still the inmate no move to greet him. Not that he expected it, not after what had transpired between them both, and the other shivered as he stepped into the cell. It wasn't until he laid his hand on their shoulder that he felt their quivering.

"Zaves?"

There was a jolt of recognition at his voice, and the head turned towards him only slightly, "Nis?"

"I'm here, my friend." He knelt to try and find his eyes "You are free."

"For how long?"

"Forever."

He leaned back slightly, taking the Power's hand with him, and finally their eyes met "Really?"

Nisroc nodded "Come with me?" and held his free hand out for him. The shackles clanged together as his hands curled around the one he offered to him, and he helped him climb to his feet, steadying him when he stumbled. It made him twist in guilt, his heart clenching tightly, they all knew what happened to the prisoners placed under the cruel wardens control and to think he had allowed his dearest friend to suffer those pains made him sick to his stomach.

They were to all be taken straight to the Healer after being released, to be diagnosed and treated, and he could think of no archangel better for his friend to see in this precarious position then the one who had raised him.

The two of them slowly shuffled out of the cell door, into the bodies milling towards the exit, too many then there should ever be in these parts, all heading for Abraxos and Titus who held the keys for their freedom from the chains that kept them bound. Their eyes met when they stepped up next in line to be unshackled. He shook his head minutely, now was not the time, it was the time to free them all and see to getting them looked over, time to make up for past mistakes that couldn't be taken back but moved on from.

Puriel and Haniel were directing them down the steps, directing other warriors to aid those that couldn't walk on their own rather well, and fell still as they descended, slowly but surely. Zaveriel looked up as they hit the last step, squinting as he looked up into the sun above, smiling at the warmth that shone down on his face, all the while leaning against the Captain for the support he offered.

Being as conditioned as he was when it came to keeping his soldiers in arms, he took note of all the vulnerabilities at first sight.

He favored his left foot.

His breathing was shallow and sporadic.

His tunic stuck to his back with dark stains.

A large gash sliced right above his right eye.

He was not well. Not that he had expected him to be after staying where he had for so long.

They had caught the Healer by surprise, as his Infirmary was overtaken by prisoners wrongfully held and subsequently abused, his bright eyes going wide at the sight of his old charge hobbling into his healers aid, and a dark hand pressed to cover his mouth as he fell into shock.

Never had he thought in a thousand years that his young messenger would have ended up in such a cruel place.

He left the others to their task, stepping away in a silence that had few eyes turning to watch him with surprise, he approached slowly, to the limp messenger hanging from the guilty Power's shoulder, leaning forward to catch the younger's attention.

"Zaves?"

Silence followed for a long moment, and they both waited on bated breath for any semblance of recognition, slowly he turned his head up. His eyes could just be seen peeking out from under his matted curls "Raph?"

The archangel nodded, holding a tentative hand out for the one he had raised "I am here my little sprite."

"Raph." He tumbled forward, pushing away from the Power, the one whom he had once called his friend, reaching instead for the archangel. He's caught quick, before he gets too far, and he clings to the Healer's front as he breaks into painful sobs, ribs grating together at the contraction of everyone, and the Healer is taken by surprise for a moment before he cautiously wraps him in his arms.

The archangel nods from over his shoulder, a silent nod of gratitude to the Power that had seen to personally delivering the traumatized messenger back to his once guardian, turning to guide him to a bed, on that sits particular close to the work area he has set up towards the back of the Infirmary, undoubtedly to keep watch over him while he worked on other projects to aid with the ailments of others.

But he follows, he's lost his friend once, and refuses to abandon him again.

Just as quickly as they arrive to the bed that's been chosen personally by the Healer, so does the things needed, that they all use at the present in treating their nonstop incoming patients. He eases him back into the bed, coaxing him to let go of his front, and steps down to the foot of his bed where the basin and sponge lay.

Spotting the Power that remained at their side, the Healer puts him to work, "If you choose to stay, then rub him down, get this coat of grime free." He nods, taking any opportunity he can to help his ailing friend. Zaveriel stares blankly, up at the ceiling above, and then looks down to the Healer as he moves about preparing the tonics and mixtures that he's going to needed, before returning his gaze upwards.

Not once does he look to the Power.

"Drink this." It comes as an order, albeit a soft one, from the Healer who steps up to his charge's front. Zaveriel looks up at him with wide eyes, then to the cup he holds out for him, and returns his gaze to the Healer, "It's a tonic, it'll help with the pain of those broken ribs as they mend, I could hear them rattling as you sobbed yourself hoarse." And he holds it under his lips for him to drink from, which he does without complaint.

It makes him sleepy, they can see that from the way his eyes flutter, and he looks to his old guardian with curiosity, "I may have snuck come chamomile in there to help you sleep. My bad." Theres a brief look of betrayal that comes over his softening features as the tonic and his deprivation finally take hold. When he is sure that his charge is fast asleep, the Healer turns to him, and it nearly makes him take a step back at the severity of his glare.

"Let me make _one _thing _clear_." He knows it's never in ones best interest to have an _archangel _upset at you, and it was hard to upset this particular one, so it was a truly dire situation "If you _ever _break his _heart_, his _trust_, again. So, help me, _not a single soul, _will be able to put you back together again. Do I make myself _crystal clear_?" the Healer is not one to pick favorites among the ones he raises, but Zaveriel was one of the few exceptions (along with Azrael and Constantine) to that rearing, he was rather fond of the wild little messenger, and did not take to anyone harming one of his charges, previous or otherwise.

And he's seen first hand that the destruction caused by the Healer's hand when enraged is just as tragic as his Commander's is.

"Clear, sir."

"Good." He waves to the sponge in his hand "Continue sponging him down." He turns to sit at his feet, "I am going to work on the flayed foot."

"Flayed?"

"Did you think they were kind to their prisoners?" he looks up from where he's examining the finely peeled skin, "Be happy he's as alert as he is. Others were not so lucky. Poor Gadreel, for example, he will never walk unaided again."

"Is there nothing that can be done?" he turned away, the sponge stilling over the hand that lay peacefully before him "Heal him?"

"Oh, I can heal him, I intend to, with every single poor soul that's brought to me." He turns back to the foot he's mending, "But I am no miracle worker. The nerves in his feet are shot. He can barely feel himself standing, hence, why I said he may never walk unaided."

Nisroc nods, sponging down the arm, and the hand, that lay before him "Why go after the feet?"

"One cannot run if they cannot stand."

They work well into the night, the steady stream of freed prisoners trickle to a stop as well, and the Infirmary still bustles softly with life as its nearly overtaken with those needed seen to with great care and great haste. His back aches from leaning over the unconscious messenger, his arms going sore from the constant motion, when a gentle hand curls over his shoulder.

Raphael is still visibly upset at the sight before them, but his features have softened, he's harsh and sharp for a short time before the rage simmers down once more. Often times, he's been known to scold sharply and harshly, before forgiving and comforting with the soft tone he's rather known for.

"Take a rest," He nods to his quivering hand, "You've been at it for a while. He won't wake for some time. I may have infused the tonic with a bit of my own grace. Allow yourself a break."

"I can't, I hav—"

"Nisroc." No matter how old he gets, having his name spoken in such a manner still makes him feel as though he's no more then a small fledgling tottering around, especially by someone so much older then he was. "I know. I won't lie to you and say things will be easy. But wearing yourself thin won't be of any help." He took the sponge from him before any more protest could be made, "I cannot take back what my brother has done to you all. Forcing you to choose him over your family. I can take the memories of the past, if I thought it would help you, but I know it would not." The Healer helped him stand, leading him to the rare empty bed, and guided him into laying "It will take time, all things such as this do, but I have no doubts that he will forgive you."

He leaves him for a moment, returning with a cup for him to drink from, and he eyes it suspiciously, "What is this?"

"Drink."

"Are you doing the same to me as you did to him?"

"You won't know if you don't drink. So drink."

The Power knows he cannot disobey an order, even if it is one give indirectly, and he gingerly takes the cup to drink.

He's asleep a minute after he downs it and misses the Healers smug smile.

"Still got it."


	247. Pace

**To Rosemarie! Hope you liked it! Tried to sort of keep to the request!**

It was a rare day that the squads were released from training early and able to do with the rest of the day whatever they pleased, the day made rare by the allowance of their Mentors to be released from their duties with them, free to do as they pleased. Though they spent most of that time together, now that their little friends had grown older, he had seen the youngest member of the squads combined head off in a familiar direction and turned to follow, giving a soft parting farewell to the others, as they too spotted who he followed and smiled in kind.

He followed her to the garden, back to that one spot she always seemed to migrate to, not one to spend time with others outside of her circle of friends. She laid in the grass, spread out in the warmth from the sun, and closed her eyes at the peace around her. She was excelling in training, he couldn't be more proud, the young woman turned her disadvantages into advantages and there was not too many who could do so with such ease.

"Mind if I join you?"

One of her eyes peeked up, and a smile spread over her features, "Not at all, _sir_." He chuckled, the word always came from her tongue with a certain amount of sarcasm in it and pointed a finger at her in warning as he sat down below her. She leaned back down, over her arm that had been curled under her head, and the eyes closed once more.

They sat in companionable silence for a long time, he ended up laying on his back and watching the clouds float lazily overhead, and she draped her bare feet over his stomach. Excluding the one he had raised personally, none of the other cadets would ever dare use him as their personal foot rest, but this one was given more pass then most others were in all the squads (some favor was played among them for obvious reasons) and then of course there was his two nearly grown charges as well.

Soon enough, the clouds above didn't change in shape, and he grew tired of watching them and he turned his attention to the feet laying across his chest. Still so small, a bit bigger then they had been when she was a fledgling, but she'd only grown perhaps a head bigger was still the shortest in all the squads combined. Smiling a mischievous smile, one that went unseen by the other at his side, he reached up and stroked a finger down the middle of one of the two delicate feet. It jerks back immediately, an irritated sigh coming from it's owner, and when no further attack came, settled back down again.

He waited a moment, and then repeated his previous action.

This time she gave a swallowed giggle and yanked her foot back again, moving them further down his stomach and falling back into silence.

Another moment passed, and he reached down again, "Nis!"

"I'm not doing anything." Though as he said it, he scratched his finger under her littlest toe and she gave him a soft shriek in return, yanking her foot back completely.

"You are too!" her eyes were bright with delight though, and he smiled as he sat up to meet her "I just _watched _you!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about." He reached for her foot again, though, and she shrieked and scooted back a step "Perhaps we've been training you too much for your muscles to be acting as such."

"You trying to get me!"

"I am not." He reached out again though and the foot is snatched away quickly she's getting fast, not that she wasn't quick as a fledgling mind you, but she's honed that skill into a fine art at this point and that pride in his chest for her swells just that much more at its sight.

Finally, the Captain snatched her foot up, no matter how quick she got, she would never surpass him, and he dug his fingers into her sole. She shrieked in laughter, yanking at her captured foot, "Now I am." He positioned it just right to allow him access to her toes, it had always produced the most bubbly giggles when she had been a smaller fledgling, and it seems that some things didn't change with the passing time. He chuckled when she kicked him with her other foot, and shrieked when he reached for that one too, loosening his grip on the one he already had in his grip and she managed to yank her foot free. Her eyes danced with delight and playfulness, as she gathered her feet under her for safe keeping, and he laughed at her laughter despite his attack being halted, if only for the moment.

Then she launched herself at him, it caught him by surprise, and he arched his back in surprise when little fingers dug into that one spot on either side of his upper ribs. He yelps a laugh of his own, her laughter ringing in his ears as she dug in for as much time as she could manage, seeming to enjoy the jolts she caused every time she did.

He reacted just as quick, snatching her small frame away, and she's still laughing when he towers over her, holding her hands pinned up on either side of her head, "You thought you could attack me?"

"Strategic counterattack?"

"And what do you consider what's about to happen?"

"Counter-counterattack?"

The Captain smiled at the young lady, leaning down to kiss her nose, "I'd agree with that." She shrieked in surprise, despite his taunting, when a bristled chin burrowed into her neck. Nisroc had been ruthless when she was a fledgling, and nothing much had changed, eliciting shrieks and bright giggles from the youngling under him, pressing his nose under her ear, "You've been excelling in training."

"Yohohoure a gohohohood mehehehntor!"

"You are growing into quite the spectacle," he pulls away, resting their foreheads together, gazing into her eyes "One to be watched among the squads. I'm quite proud of you." She was still giggling, lighter then during his playful attack on her neck, "You've grown to be quite fast, too."

"Faster and faster."

"Indeed, I've seen you and Sasha running through the fields during the cover of the night, more then once, what ever could you be doing at such an hour?"

"Stuff."

He smiles, "_Stuff?_" she giggles up at him "That's all I am going to get. _'Stuff'_?"

She shrugs under him "Just stuff."

"Just tell me," she nods at his inquiry, "Is it bad?"

The young lady takes on a look of offence and he's quick to quench the offense with another kiss to her nose. Oh, if only the other members of the squad could see their stern and taciturn Mentor like this.

"Now, now," her eyes took on a fiery sheen "Don't get all mad at me, I didn't doubt you, it was merely a question that I needed to ask."

She rolls her eyes at the statement and sighs, though the air between them is still playful, and soon their smiles return once more.

"But you will always be the little fledgling who loved riding on my shoulders, no matter how much you grow.", he smiled when she cooed playfully at him, "Do you know how I remind myself?" she's giggling again and shaking her head.

"I think of the moments like this." He burrows his face back into her neck, and she shrieks in laughter, her shoulder scrunching up around his face, but he's truly burrowed in there, his bristled chin only adding to the playful torture.

"Nihihihis! Whyhyhyhyhy!"

He burrows in deeper, brushing his nose against her ear, "We never get to have these moments hardly anymore."

"Nihihihiss!"

"Let me enjoy myself just a bit more."

The Captain was quick, as he was trained to be, and released her wrists to reach for her belly, and she squealed brightly.

"Besides, you could use a good laugh."


	248. Hunger

"Here I got you another one."

Akeelah sits next to her friend at their squads table, looking over at the second bowl of stew he'd procured for her when she'd left to attend to the need for facilities, she thanked him for his thoughtfulness and dug into the second bowl of hearty stew. They both looked up at the soft spoken comment that was made from down the table, the soft laughter that followed, it was just words to them and they weren't any harm, but they caught what was said. Sasha watched as his friend looked down at her bowl of stew, the words ringing in their ears, and as she pushed it away from here.

There was no shame in having a second helping, he had about two and a half, others in their squad had more then he did, and he knew that his friend could down just the same amount that he could, especially after long days of rigorous training.

And she was not usually the one of those who took peoples comments to heart, but something about that one had gotten to her, and thus he watched as she pushed her helping away and pulled for her notes instead.

He shot a glare down to them and they laughed again.

It only got worse from there, he'd get his friend a muffin for breakfast, a muffin and a piece of bread, as she usually got for herself. The others followed, munching on their breakfast on their way to the training field above, and she waved his offering away, saying that she had already eaten before he woke. Though he knew otherwise when he heard her stomach growl.

He knew it was a problem when she had returned from the washroom and he could see her hip bones sticking out of her upper waist as she was pulling her leather vest tunic over her head.

"Akeelah, when was the last time you ate anything?"

"I'm fine Sasha."

The young man stood from her bunk, where he'd been sitting on the lower bunk of their shared bed, and stepped up to her, "You are _not_."

"I _said _I'm fine!"

He blinked at her snap, her eyes a blazing fire as they glared at him, and she gathered her daggers and left him standing there to watch as she walked out on them, heading to the field above to begin the day, and there was something in the pit of his stomach that knew she was anything but.

…

Things took a dramatic twist for the worst the following day of training, two and a half weeks to the day she had stopped eating, during one on one drills. She had been partnered with Sasha, as they usually were, and he tried to pull his hits but was immediately scolded by Titus for doing so, and thus their fight became of power. All it took was one hit to the stomach, only one, and she went white in the face. It was like she'd been white-washed, someone had poured paint over her front, and then her eyes rolled up into her head and she fell as though she were a puppet who's strings had just been cut.

"Titu—" Sasha jumped forward to catch her before she hit the ground "Titus!"

The Power turned for him from where he stand watching another pair go back and forth, his eyes going wide the moment he took in the sight, and he ran over to help him lower her to the ground. He waved at another pair to go for their mentor, and they did so with haste, as he kneeled down to try and rouse the unconscious youngling he had watched grow up under their shared care with the commanders.

"Keelah?" he pat her cheek lightly "Keelah, can you hear me?"

When he got no response, he leaned forward to listen for her breath, giving a sigh of relief when he felt it blow against his cheek. A shadow fell over them, and soon another set of hands joined his, Nisroc had arrived and he was frantic in a controlled way.

"What happened?" he was feeling for her pulse, trying to rouse her in the same way Titus had, "Somebody! What happened!"

The class only shrugged, but Sasha stepped forward, "Sir." He swallowed, aching as he watched them trying to revive his unconscious friend, "Nis." The call of the name only used outside of the training field had the Power turning quickly, he knew by such a disregard for titles in the place they stood meant the situation was dire "She hasn't eaten in nearly three weeks."

"What is going on-?"

The archangel had seen the commotion from the other side of the training field and come to investigate, his heart stopping at the ashen face of his little star laying there as still as the dead, he knelt immediately, knocking shoulders lightly with the Power standing next to him, Titus didn't seem to mind.

Nisroc stared at his nearly grown charge "What does that mean?" he couldn't fathom it, not this one "What do you mean _'she hasn't eaten in nearly three weeks'_?"

"Just that. She says she has but I know she didn't."

"_Sashael_." The tone is sharp "You didn't think to report that!"

"I didn't have real proof. She told me she had already eaten when I offered her food!"

Michael ignored them both, taking in the prognosis in silence, and slid his arms under her to lift her from the ground, a frown gracing his features and concern lightly his eyes when she hung limply from his arms. He stood, and with him so did the others, and was quick in his orders "Training is cancelled. Gather your squads. I want to know how this has happened. If a soul should be responsible for this, they are yours to handle first, and then they will come to me. Understood?"

The two Powers nodded in time to the order, watching as the archangel jumped to the sky with his charge in his arms, limp as a rag doll. Titus left him to gather his own squad, and Nisroc turned to his charge, "Tell me what happened."

And Sasha did. He told him e_verything_. And Nisroc, he was _livid. _

…

Samael fiddled with the sleeve of his tunic as he stood before the Power's desk, he could tell that the passive angel was unusually enraged at the moment, and thus he tried to make himself seem as small as possible. He knew that someone had told on him, precisely, he knew _who _had told on him. He would deal with that matter when he got back to the barrack.

"I'm _beyond_ angry, Samael."

The Power let his hand fall from his lips to his desk, the palm smacking the wood harshly, his eyes smoldering with his well kept rage.

"This is not the first, this is not the _second_, this is not the _third _time, this if the _fourth time_ I've had you in here for mistreating those in your own squad."

He looked down to his feet.

"_You will look at me_." And immediately back up, his eyes met the Power's, and he felt fear like he's never felt before _"_What happened the first time you came to see me?" there was silence, _"__Answer."_

"You gave me a warning. Sir."

Nisroc nodded, drumming his fingers over the desk, "And the second?"

"You had me…. Had me bend over your desk."

"And the third?"

Samael fidgeted with the sleeve of his tunic again, "You had me bare myself over the edge of your desk."

"And yet, I cannot seem to get the message across, can I." the Power stared at him intently, "You should show me gratitude, the Commander wanted to expel you from the squads, your mate is in very bad condition because of your cruel words." He stopped drumming his fingers "I convinced him to let me handle it and he allowed it." He held up a finger, "Just this _once _mind you." He stood from his seat, "Since I can't seem to get the message across here, then we will go elsewhere."

Nisroc had stepped out from behind his desk, took hold of the boy by his collar, and dragged him from his office, jogging to keep up with the Power's strides. They stopped first at his Barrack, the Power giving the order for them all to follow, and they did so without question at the look that was painted over his features.

They followed him as they walked from the training fields, still having the boys collar captive, through the Axis for all to see, and to the Garden.

He had spoken to the Healer earlier that day, while visiting his Baby Power, and this had been his suggestion to the matter.

They stopped in a clearing, the lot of them, and he pushed the one in his hold forward, "Go find yourself a switch."

"I—Sir—!"

"_Now_."

Samael knew he was in deep and ran off to find what was ordered of him, making sure to do it in haste, and returned with one in hand. His face growing red with embarrassment at having his squad there to watch. The Power didn't seem to mind either way and took the switch without hesitation.

"Strip and turn."

His face was burning as he bared his bottom and turned for the Power, who took hold of his collar once more, turning to address his squad, "Let this be a lesson to _all _of you, this will be your fate, should I _ever_ find out you meant one of your own _harm_."

He swung his arm around, hard enough that it cracked against the pale skin, and Samael shrieked and jumped when it came down just as hard a second time.


	249. More the Merrier

When the Healer returned to their Villa that night with his extra cargo that he hadn't had when he had left, he wasn't sure just how his brothers would react to his decision to keep the young choir angel, at least until the matter with his actual guardian was understood. He wasn't sure how the little fledgling that lived with them would react at his being there either. She was young and still prone to bouts of jealously.

Gabriel was the first one to spot him, as the Messenger had taken his usual seat at his absence, and raised an eyebrow at the fledgling using his shoulder as his pillow to rest on, the golden eyes of the Messenger turned from him to the fledgling he could see just over his older brothers shoulder.

The next to spot him was his oldest brother, Michael raised an eyebrow at the sight before him, "I see you brought a sleepy visitor with you, little brother."

All eyes turned to him now, the choir master scrunched his eyebrows together at the sight of the second youngest in his flock being with them, and the fledgling in his lap took a slightly deliberate bite of a berry, watching him with close eyes.

"Yes, he came to see me today, and his guardian did not come back for him at days end."

"You know where he 'longs. Why not just take him 'ack?"

They all turned to look at the little fledgling who sat there munching on her berries, a well hidden fire burning in her eyes, she was friends with others so long as they didn't take one of _her_ big brothers away. She stared at the Healer, ignoring it when her choir master called out to her in astonishment _'Akeelah'_, and the third born archangel raised his chin at her disrespect, "I won't be spoke to in that manner, little one."

"All I did was ask a question!" she threw her remaining berries down on the table, "How is _that _wrong!"

_"__Akeelah."_

The deep rumbling voice of their oldest brother had her looking over at him, he was unphased by her anger, he's raised a number of young ones and knows the starting of a fit of jealousy when he sees one.

He nods in the direction of the hall, "Go to bed."

"But!"

"Bed, Akeelah."

She threw the Morningstar's hand off from around his waist and hopped down, spitting a berry at the oldest archangel as she passed him, and ran down the hall when he excused himself and stood from his chair. Soft pleading came as a whisper from down the hall before the click of a door silenced it. He was gone for some time, and they all exchanged a look, knowing that luck had been tried when the berry had been spit at him.

"Well, I for one am happy he's here with us." Gabriel smiled, breaking the silence that had fallen over them since the sound of that door clicking shut, "Give me another fledgling to play with."

Lucifer nodded himself, twisting a berry between his two fingers, "I could not be happier to know that someone as yourself has taken him in while he is alone." He plopped the berry into his mouth "I will also speak to Hazel on this matter. He is her charge."

"I took the liberty of placing some extra blankets in your room for the small one." Michael had joined them once more, "I can feel the first snow of the season closing in on us."

The Healer nodded in thanks, and turned to gaze down the silent hall "Did you leave her there in her tears."

"Of course not." He sat back in his seat, "I am not cruel. She is fast asleep now. And will never spit another berry at me again."

"And you weren't too rough?" the second born looked to his oldest brother, he was extremely protective when it came to his tiny little charge, and has been known to keep her from them if he got angered at their treatment of her, "She's only little, Mike."

"I was not harsh. A few taps to her rump and her lesson was learned." He reached for a berry himself "As I said, she is now fast asleep."

He turned to look at the Healer and the fledgling he carried unconscious to the world around him, clearly feeling safe and warm, having fallen asleep on his shoulder as he had.

"The fledgling is more then welcome to stay with us."


	250. Snowflake

She stood perfectly still in the middle of their garden, a little purple mitten covered hand held upright to catch the shimmering flakes that fell from above them all, they stuck to her wool cap, the sleeves of the thick cloak she wore, and crunched under her boots.

One fell into her palm and she smiled brightly, looking down to it for all the intricate details, no two were exactly the same but they were all so pretty.

"What have you got there?"

A large blue mitten covered hand cradled the bottom of hers as another joined her in her place, peering at the same snowflake that she was, and she looked up to meet the sparkling blue eyes of her choir master.

"It's so pretty, Luci."

"Aren't they?", he hummed, looking up to the sky of white, watching as the flakes slowly danced their way over them both, "They are my most favorite creation."

He stood and held his hand out for her, a little mitten covered hand cured around his fingers, and together they walked through the white wonderland that had befallen their garden, leaving only their foot prints as the evidence of their being there.

"Luci?"

"Yes, little one?"

The Morningstar held the gate open for her, and she stepped out under his arm, before retaking his hand once the gate had been closed behind them.

"Can I make a snow flake too?"

He smiled down at her, "Sure, I'll show you how to make snowflakes."


	251. Whiplash

He rubbed at his sore bottom miserably as he was pulled back to the Power's office, the door shut behind him, and given the silent order to sit in the seat he had taken before he was dragged to the garden for a switching that left him in tears even long after the actual blows had stopped. He whines as he sits, squirming in his seat, but does as he's told silently as he does not want to cause any more trouble for himself.

"Here."

Over his shoulder is held a cup, it's filled half way with water, and he looks up to get approval before taking it. The Power nods once, and he's quick to take the cup, chugging the water down to quench the dryness from his throat after the hoarse wailing he'd been reduced to in the garden, the Captain was not merciful, especially after having given three warnings for his behavior previously.

Samael sniffles when his chin is snagged, the strength from the blows having diminished, and the fingers that curl under his chin are gentle, and he's turned to look at the Power as he rubs the evidence of his tears away with a soft cloth, he sniffles again and the Power's thumb brushes over his forehead as he finishes up cleaning him up.

"Why—Why are you being—being so nice to me?"

"Because I am not cruel, despite what you may think of me after our time in the garden."

"But—But I'm bad! I've been so _bad_!"

"Yes." The Captain steps around his desk to sit in his own chair, crossing his fingers in front of him, and examined him silently over the desk, "You most certainly have been. I've been at my wits end with you, and I've trained quite a few wild ones, but I've never given up on a single one and I don't intend to give up one you."

The youngling looked down, "I'm sorry."

"As you most certainly should be. What you did is unacceptable, extremely so, but I am not one who believes that one acts as they were raised." He leaned forward, "Tell me, what was your fledglinghood like?"

"I was raised be Theo." Samael flinched at his own tone, "How do you think it was?"

Nisroc's eyes go wide, "You were…You were raised by Theo?"

Samael nods, watching as the Power rubs a hand over his eyes, "I can imagine how your life was." He looks back to him, his eyes sorrowful, "Tell me how it was?"

The boy fidgets and squirms, his bottom is still burning from the thrashing in the garden, his embarrassment is still burning with heat having it done with everyone there to watch.

"It wasn't nice." He twiddles his thumb and resists the urge to jump from his seat and rub at his bottom like a pitiful miserable little fledgling, but he isn't one, and he hasn't been for a bit of time. "You remember what he did to the prisoners. What do you think he did to someone he was supposed to actually care for."

"Indeed." He sits back in his chair, "I can imagine the things you've had to live through. There is no doubt in my mind where you learned this appalling behavior." Samael looks to his feet, heaving a sigh, and waits for what's to come next. "I know you are not bad. You are not a bad person."

He looks up immediately, "But I—"

"Made mistakes, horrendous mistakes, but mistakes none the less."

The youngling nodded, trying to wrap his mind around it, he had never thought that he would hear something like that come from someone who had dealt with his numerous misdeeds, and he wasn't sure how to respond to it.

"Mistakes that will be met with a firm hand _every_ time. But mistakes can be learned from too, and I intend to seeing you learn from them."

"You said you don't give up on anybody?"

It made him feel a bit better when he watched the Power nod, "I don't. I never have and I never will. We will work on this behavior, and every time it will be met with the same result, so let that be your warning." Samael nodded quickly, looking down to his lap, and the Power hummed, "Do you know why I treat you all the way I do?"

"No, sir."

"I treat you as young ones, because that it what you are, though able to chose your flock you are barely out of your fledglinghoods. It is not out of malicious intent or to inflict embarrassment."

"So, like you've taken us as your charge."

"Isn't that what you all are?", he spread his arms, "You all fall under my guidance."

Samael smiled slightly at the notion, he would have given anything to have the Captain as his guardian, even he'd gotten to see what he had been like to the two he had taken charge over. To know that he was there, although by notion alone, made him feel safer. An air of amusement circled about the Captain, as though he knew of his inner thoughts, but he made no comment on the way his face reddened as though he knew he'd been caught thinking on it.

"Your guardian failed at his job. Why he was ever granted one to raise is beyond my comprehension, honestly, Father is too forgiving for His own good sometimes. I will reign in this behavior, I swear it to you, it will be my main focus until you learn these lessons. As I said, I do not give up on my squads, and I most certainly don't intend to give up on you."

He stood from his seat, and Samael knew his meeting was coming to an end and stood with him, only to be waved back down, "Tell me about yourself. What do you like to do in free time?"

Samael licked his lips "I like…I like to watch the birds in the garden. Or spend time with my friends. I like to read too."

"Is that the reason you took Sashael's book so callously?"

He went pale, "You knew?"

Nisroc spared him a look over his shoulder, "Who did you think replaced it?" he was examining volumes that had been collected over a numerous length of time, and hummed when he found what he was looking for, pulling out a large volume. "You said you like to read?"

"Yes, sir."

"Please, when we are not in here for any reason other then each other's company, call me Nis. Nearly everyone else does."

He held the volume out to him and he tentatively took it, as if this were some sort of test to be tried and he was resolute that he would not fail it.

"You may borrow any of my books when you please to, all I ask is that you return them when you are finished."

"I—I—Thank you, Si—_Nis."_


	252. Wish

_This is my wish, my wish for the world: that Peace would find it's way to every boy and girl. _

She skipped along, hopping along the Axis on her way to no where, just going on the journey to see what there was to see. She stopped to watch her fellow fledgling run around, playing in the snow with their new guardians, past tragedies and trauma forgotten on the time for new beginnings. Their laughter tingled like bells against the winter air, and she smiled at their fun, as the guardians joined them in their excitement, knowing a life that should never have been hidden from them.

_This is the time, the time for harmony, let love be the song, that everybody sings._

The fledgling moved on, humming to herself as she made her way to wherever that destination may be, she stopped to watch them decorate the Heart Hall in green holly and red flowers, the Grigori and Powers together. Where had once stood enemies, now stood friends. They laughed together, as if their past wasn't twisted and torn, as they had once before the great war.

_I hear the sweetest sound, the sound of hope to come, together we can bring good will to everyone. _

She stopped at the foot of the Infirmary, watching the Virtues and big brother decorate the walls and pillars, she spotted Jezaniah tug on the archangels robes to be lifted so he may hang his own, and the Healer smiled as he obliged, there had been a bout of jealousy between the two fledglings that had quickly passed. The Healer's heart was big enough to love them both equally.

_Let it start with you, let is start with me, let every nation rise to sing this melody. _

She wandered down the path until she spotted the familiar blue cloak of her archangel, directing those in the choir that would follow, through the tunes of the season. A few stood around them to watch, Nisroc, Paul, and Sasha were among them, Father and Aunt were there, so was Michael, they all listened to the choir with light hearts.

The Morningstar felt it when she came to stand next to him, knowing that his choir could carry on without his direction, he turned to kneel to the fledgling, his youngest choir angel, "Join us?"

Akeelah nodded, kissing his cheek, and hopped forward to join the others.

_Fill the air with joyful noise, ring the bell and riase your voice, let there be peace on earth, let there be peace on earth, lift your light let it shine, shine shine shine, let every voice be heard, let there be peace on earth. _


	253. Woes of the Healer

**1\. "You didn't think it was that bad? Are you looking at it?!"**

Heads turned at the exclamation from the Healer, and as the Messenger flinched away from him, pulling his infected arm closer, but the older archangel was having none of it as he reached back out and snagged the appendage back up again.

"You didn't think it was that bad!?" Are you _looking _at it, Gabriel!"

The Messenger flinched back at having his name spoken in such a manner, and nodded at his older brothers question, following when he's pulled through the hustling healers to an empty bed to be pushed down on. His brother is silent as he focuses on his task, disinfecting the gash on his arm, cleaning the debris out from within, and binds it to keep outside infections from getting back into the freshly scrubbed wound.

He thanks his older brother quietly, hoping to skirt by, when his ear is snagged up and brings him to a complete halt.

"What did I say would happen if this happened again, _baby _brother?"

"Bu—Please Raph! It was a bad mistake! Please!"

"Go get my belt."

"Not in front of _everyone_!"

"_Go _get my _belt._"

**2\. ****"****You've had worse. You'll live."**

Oren snorted when the messenger collapsed onto the bed next to where the Healer stood, letting free a quite dramatic sigh, and let his hands flop to the mattress underneath him. His attention turned to his archangel next, amusement dancing in his eyes when he didn't so much as flinch from what he was doing, kneeling to get a better look at the wound to the wing he had been working on for quite some time.

He did grunt softly when the weight of the young messenger collapsed over his back, arms falling over his shoulders, another dramatic sigh was released, and he finally paused in his ministrations to pat the left hand that dangled closest to his chest.

"You've had worse." And he returned to what he was doing "You'll live."

**3\. "If you pass out, I'm not going to catch you."**

Despite his ill he was, the messenger refused to allow himself to be confined to a bed, thus, with a fever raging through his body, he followed all of those around the infirmary that he could manage to follow. He swayed and wobbled, stumbling along, but managed by a mere limb.

Oren elbowed his archangel in the ribs when the messenger eventually made his way to them, and the Healer turned to look to him first, with a raised eyebrow, and then to the ill messenger under their care.

"I told him to stay in bed."

He addressed the messenger completely, crossing his arms, watching intently as the younger swayed rather dangerously.

"If you pass out, I'm not going to catch you."

**4\. "You better have a really good reason for being out of bed."**

The door creaking open after the cover of darkness had fallen pulled him from the files he'd been working on, bright blue eyes turned to look up at the one who had entered his office, and they widened at the sight of the young one standing in the doorway. His hair was messy from the bandages wrapped around his head, and he had to grasp at the doorframe to keep from falling over, but he stood there resolutely.

"Zaveriel!" He stood from his chair in quick fashion, stepping around his desk with equal likeness, and caught him as he fell forward when his strength seemingly gave out. "You better have a really good reason for being out of bed."

The messenger curled into his arms, fingers tucking into the folds of his robes, and he pressed his face to the Healer's chest. "Ca't sl'p."

"You came all this way because you couldn't sleep?" he wrapped his arms around him more securely, "You could have told someone as they did their rounds. You hardly needed to risk walking all this way."

"B't I w'nt'd y'o."

He heaved a fond sigh, "Let's return you to your bed." There was a soft mumble that came from his robes "Yes, I will lay down with you."

**5\. "I told you that would pop your stitches! Did you listen? No!"**

The messenger flinched as the fine needle poked into his side again, not as gentle as it had been the first time it was done and listened only just to the ranting from his old guardian. He hadn't thought that a simple errand would cause this much damage. He hadn't wrestled with anyone, had divebombed anyone, he'd been as careful as one could possibly be.

"Ow! Raph!"

"I told you that would pop your stitches! Did you listen? No!" he tugged on the thread a tad harder then necessary "So keep quiet and let me finish."

**6\. "I can stick this thermometer in your mouth or I can stick it somewhere less pleasant. It's up to you."**

A fevered messenger was not a fun messenger to contend with, but he was well adept in his ways and when it came to tending to ailing messengers, he was one of the few who had helped raise the Messenger, thus he knew his way around the few blocks there was to travel when it came to an ailing messenger.

Especially when it came to the other messenger he had raised, this one was particularly stubborn, and he stood at the foot of the messengers bed with his arms crossed. The Healer reached for thermometer from the one trying to administer the reading, and they stepped away at the wave of his fingers.

The messenger glared at him, mouth firmly closed, as if to meet the challenge of having his temperature.

He knelt to meet his eyes, "I can stick this thermometer in your mouth, or I can stick it somewhere less pleasant." Zaveriel's eyes went wide and his older guardian nodded "It's up to you."

**7.**** "****I don't think I even need to say I told you so…But I told you so."**

When Lucifer came to him with a blade sticking through his shoulder, he heaved a sigh, pinched his nose, playfully glared at those who found his current predicament amusing into silence, and gestured for the older archangel to follow him.

He had told him, told him _hundreds _of times, not to go aid those human hunters on his own. He would have gladly gone with him, Gabriel would have, Michael would have, but the Morningstar had been adamant that he could deal with them all on his own, and he was only going to be gone for an hour at the most.

They all knew that they still detested him, taking every available opportunity to tell him so, thus the reason they all went with him on those ridiculous missions that Father assigned, more so for the Morningstar's own wellbeing then the humans.

He gripped the end of the blade, secured his brothers shoulder, "I don't think I even need to say I told you so…."

"So, don't."

"I told you so."

**8\. "I am **_**not **_**sleeping in here with you. You snore when you're congested."**

He knew at the exact moment those eyes turned to him, bright and hopeful, clouded with just a bit of fever, and that lower lip poked free that he was going to find himself a goner for the little thing that had Heaven's four archangels wrapped around her little finger.

Raphael pointed a finger down to her, "Now, don't give me that look , I'll sit here but nothing more."

The little head tilted to the side, and she gave a pitiful sniffle of her stuffy little nose, "P'ease RaRa."

"I am _not _sleeping in here with you." Though he felt his resolve crumbling even as he spoke the words, "You snore when you're congested."

"P'ease big bear?"

He heaved a sigh, knowing he was going to give in the moment she turned those big starry eyes on him and that little lip started quivering, "Oh, fine, I'll lay with you." She smiled at him as brightly as one with a cold could, and scooted over for him to lay next to her, lifting his arm for her to snuggle underneath and into his side. "But this stays between us."

"T'anks b'g b'ther."

"Go to sleep, little bear."

**9\. ****Drink it, or I'll pry your mouth open and pour it down your throat."**

There was nothing worse then when one of his own came down with an ailment, became bed ridden, firstly, because it was one set of hands they were out on when it came to caring for their patients, and secondly, because they made the absolute patients.

He was at his wits end with him, honestly, he adored Constantine, but he was worse then a fledgling when it came to taking his medicines, and he would know, he was helping raise a fledgling and that pesky messenger still acted as though he was still one himself.

He took the bottle from the poor frazzled second year and sent them on their way, pointing a threatening finger to his Virtue "Drink it, or I'll pry your mouth open and pour it down your throat."

"Y'o Bl'ffing!"

Constantine soon figured out that the Healer was not bluffing, his medicine was forced into him none too gently and the Healer was smug about it.

"Now rest."

**10\. "You are **_**not **_**fine!"**

Getting his oldest brother to get treated after a wound earned in battle was a trial all on its own. It took the combined efforts of the Morningstar and three Powers to get the archangel to the infirmary.

The big bad fearless archangel Michael was _scared _of going to the Infirmary.

Raphael was always alerted before hand so that he knew to be prepared, he'd mix a tonic to keep the oldest of them sedated while he worked, one couldn't attempt escape when sleepy (though he amends that to most after having raised Zaveriel—anything is possible with that one—he jumped out of his office window once), when he arrived, in a struggle of four rather powerful beings, he was quick in forcing his tonic down his throat and they kept him restrained until it took effect.

"Honestly" he would insist "I'm fine."

And he would respond with "You are _not _fine!" and smack him over the head, "Now shut up and let me work."


	254. Abilities

Training progressed slowly, as it ever did, and there became a few individuals that began to stand out among the squads. Female recruits were rare, though not frowned upon in their ranks, and it was becoming ever apparent that the fledgling who had used to watch them training all that time ago was a true talented youngling. It was no secret that she took secret trainings from the other female warriors, training she took with all the seriousness that one could manage, and they loved having her as their student.

Her partner stayed with her in her training, never missing a beat, and became the same as the Principality and Power when it came to fighting back to back. There was more then one Power who stopped to watch them trapeze together in a dance that only they knew, and no other was privy to. Akeelah was small, agile, and used her stature to her ability, much as the Principality did when it came to battle, Sasha had a strength he kept well hidden, and they danced together in the way that practiced warriors learned even later in years. Their training even captured the eye of the Commander, who could be spotted standing at the side lines at his Captain's side, there was many flaws to be worked on, vulnerabilities that they had to work out, but even then, they seemed to cover where the other was weakest.

Michael surveyed them, two on two combat training, hand to hand, and hummed next to his Captain, "They are coming along greatly."

"Indeed, despite their rough beginnings and the trials we came to surpass, they are well blended."

The young lady darted forward, bent at the knee, and sliced a clean cut to one of the opposing angel's calves, prompting him to remind "Disarm only." He gave a small smile at the huff she gave at the command, but he nodded when she continued as she was told.

"He seems to favor the short sword."

"It suits him best, sir, they are both just over the height requirement."

The archangel snorted and turned to share a look with the comrade at his side, "So you are saying they're both short."

"More so, height impaired?"

"Short, just say it Nisroc, they're both short."

Someone kicked him roughly in the shin and he yelped, reacting in turn, and the small lady darted away when he made to snatch her up for her impudence.

"It seems calling them that word that I will not speak is a touchy subject."

He hummed in acknowledgement, "And what of young Samael?"

Nisroc turned to peer over his shoulder where he knew the one in question to be sparing his own opponent, "His attitude had changed drastically. I fear he may have felt the sting longer than anticipated."

"But his behavior has come to change from it." Michael turned to look at him "I don't think I've ever seen you that angry before."

"He put one of my cadets in the Infirmary for what could have been a fatal excursion. I was indeed furious and with good reason."

The archangel snorted, "Obviously, tell me, who was his guardian?"

"Theo."

That stopped him in his tracks, giving him a look of horror, "Why on _earth _was he granted a charge to raise?" he shook his head, "How was the consequence taken?"

"Well, all things considered, I am not cruel in my methods, sir."

"I am not saying I disapprove, I am merely inquiring, do not forgot that all squads fall under my ultimate command." Michael turned to watch the one their conversation had come to circulate around, "And I would not have kept him around long had his behavior not changed."

"He seems to truly mind how he acts now."

"He knows that you are not bluffing when you say you will ensure it changes by firmer hand."

"That too."

They turned to move on to the next cadets, "Any you see for passing to the next class?"

"A few sirs, I shall leave my report on your desk at the end of the day."

"Very good."


	255. Adapt

One of the first things that came from moving in with four attentive guardians was the need of asking for permission before doing anything, something that came harder than anything they experienced since taking in a fledgling who had since raised herself since the beginning of the war.

Asking for permission was something that was enforced with corner time, and corner time was despised by the free-spirited fledgling, the perfect punishment for the fledgling that loathed being alone.

The first for Michael had been on the training field, while he was discussing the newest third year class with his Captain, when their conversation was interrupted by the tug on his trousers. Little bright starry eyes peered up at him with inquiry in her eyes, "Micha, can I please go practice with the wooden swords?"

He met the amused eyes of his Captain and gives a nod, "Yes, you may go practice with the wooden swords." He pets her head and chuckles when she hugs his leg, "Thank you, big brother!"

They watched as the fledgling scampered off to join the youngest classes, "Sir, excuse my bluntness, but you are so smitten by that fledgling."

His hand shot out and caught the Power above his highest rib, eliciting a soft shriek from him and he jumps away quickly, "It wouldn't be the first fledgling I'd find myself smitten with, would it _little warrior_?"


	256. Agility

Being so young and so dearly loved, it was no difficult matter for her to get the oldest two beings in creation to play with her in the garden, all she must do is ask and flutter those bright little eyes and they were like putty in her hands. She swung herself between their hands as they walked side by side to the garden, mind filled with joy at all the games that they could play with all the time they had to enjoy their time together.

Michael and Lucifer humored her, swinging her back and forth, and talk good naturedly among themselves. They nod to the Gardener as they enter the garden, where all angels frequent when not spending their day of leisure in the Heart Hall, and he waved back in good humor, excited at the fledglings excitement.

"What do you want to play, little star?"

She giggled and jumped around to stand in front of the oldest archangel, "Mouse!"

"You want to play cat and mouse?"

The little fledgling nodded excitedly, and the two oldest archangels chuckle as they exchange looks, nodding in unison, "We will play with you, little one." Michael covered his eyes and Lucifer knelt to her, "We'll close our eyes and count while you run and hide."

She giggled and nodded, running in the other direction, running to hide in the threes. Michael chuckles and opens his eyes, turning to meet the gaze of his younger brother, "She is just like you, you used to love playing this game too, when you were younger."

"Can you not bring that up?"

"Why?" the archangel was amused, "Are you afraid I'll turn these tables on you?"

"Michael."

"You know I can make you squeal like that little fledgling does that we so care about."

He blushed, covering his face with his hands, and the oldest archangel chuckles. Turning to look at the trees.

"Do you think we've waited long enough?"

Lucifer seemed to enjoy the change in conversation, and nodded to his older brother, as they both set off in search for their young fledgling. It wasn't hard for them to track her down, but they play it up, if only to amuse her at their game of cat and mouse, but they knew she was up in the tree they circle around. She makes not a sound, not even the smallest of little peeps, and they had no doubt that she would make one heck of a warrior when she grew older. She excelled at nearly everything they all taught her, but they knew she loved the fight, loved being able to defend those that needed defending. But for now, they play, putting those skills of agility to the test with their playful or cat and mouse, and let her have her small amount of victory until they decide to call it. Lucifer makes to distract her, looking about the tree, while Michael stands behind the tree and he opens his own pearl white wings and holds himself up above the ground to snatch the fledgling from her hiding spot.

She squeals as he burrows into her neck and whispers _'Caught you'_ curling up despite her position in his arms, fingers curling into his light blue tunic, and he chuckles as he lowers himself to the ground. She giggles at the sight of the white feathers and reaches over his shoulder for them, "Do you like my wings, little star?"

The fledgling nods, and he pulls one around to stroke over her cheek, to let her run her fingers through the white feathers, and she coos at the feeling of them. He chuckles at her excitement, nodding over her shoulder, at the familiar coolness that fell over her from behind, "What of your beloved Luci's?"

She turned to look, at the large snowy rose-gold feathers that brushed over her cheek too, and she giggled sweetly, reaching out for the rosy feathers and he gladly let them run over her cheek again and reached out a wing to allow her to run her fingers through the soft feathers.

"I like your feathers too, Luci."

"Thank you, my little one."

Michael rubbed at her little shoulders, "Can we see your little wings, little star?"

She nodded, closing her eyes to concentrate, having not learned to call on them willingly just yet with an air of ease. Her wings unfolded, a beautiful starry galaxy of feathers, and her little feathers ruffled in the wind, and they both reached out to run their fingers through her feathers in similar way she had done to theirs.

A little mew escapes her, and she curls into his shoulder, her little wing reaching out at the light stroking, and they exchange a fond smile as the petting comes to a stop.

"We've caught the little mouse, whatever should we do now?"

"I think I want to give these teeny little wings a bit more attention."

The oldest archangel nodded in agreement, walking forward to the spot they had arrived in, and sat among the grass, leaning over her shoulder lightly, "Can I play with your pretty little wings?"

"How?"

She looked back at him in curiousness, and he kissed her neck playfully until she was giggly again, "Want me to show you?"

The fledgling nodded curiously, and squeals when he digs his fingers lightly into the flesh of her little adorable wings, tugging away from him instantaneously, but he's got her caught and catches her around the waist to pull her back to him.

"Wait now, I want to try something new, I haven't done this since the Messenger had been a little fledgling." He secured her with an arm curled around her waist, and holds a little wing open for easier access, eyeing the little appendage closely, before burying his face into the mass of little silky feathers, found the flesh underneath, and pressed a single kiss to the little wing. She giggles brightly, shrieking a loud delighted shriek when he blows softly into her wing, and she struggles to yank his arm away.

He gets one more raspberry in and lets her scramble away for the proverbial safety of her choir master's lap.

Though he's just as playful as his oldest brother is, and she finds herself laying between them, curled up in the soft grass, as they allow themselves to play with her little wings.


	257. Arson

It was a week after her return that the cadet from his barrack came rushing into his office, disrupting his silent reports and the shuffling of paperwork that littered his desks every time he gained himself a new training squad, huffing and puffing as one would be had they run all the way to him with as much speed as they could muster.

His alarm was peaked, "Yes, Jael, what is it that has you in such a hurry?"

"Sir…Fire…Barrack…. Fire."

"There's a fire in the barrack?", he was standing from his desk at the mention of the blaze, moving quickly around to meet him in the doorway, "What happened?"

"She…Fire…. Everything."

He could hardly make out what he was trying to say in his breathless state and gestured for him to lead the way back to the burning in his barrack. To think someone had purposely set a flame to another's things was unthinkable.

Nisroc entered his barrack expecting there to be a large blaze threatening his cadets, but there was no such thing, the only thing covered in the licking flames was a bunk. Across those orange raging licks of flame were the same eyes he had stared into all that time ago when it was his belongings being burned to a char, they met his just as defiantly, that chin raising in the same manner, as she tossed a pair of boots into the hungry flames. They wilted and melted, the leather charring and breaking under the heat, and there was no sight of remorse in those eyes that stared back into his.

Samael was clutching at his hair, watching his belongings burn in the hungry jaws of the raging fire that had been set over his bunk, and he fell to his knees in concealed agony as every last thing of his burned; boots and tunics and belts and the books that Nisroc had let him borrow. Everything was burning at the raging fire set by an enraged former choir angel.

Order had to be retaken, and thus he stepped into the fray, setting a hand on his panicking charges shoulder, his other on the distraught trainees head, first he tilted the head up to look at him, "We will get you knew things."

Samael shook his head frantically, "But your books! Your books—"

"Can be replaced. I am more concerned of my squads safety then of novels." He looked them all over, "Are any of you harmed?" they all shook their heads, still shocked that someone so passive, though with attitude, but passive to violence would cause such pain to one of their own as to destroy his belongings before his very eyes.

"Jael, Laoth, go for Haniel and Abraxos, tell them of the fire and to bring water to extinguish it."

The two cadets nodded at their order and bolted from their barrack, he turned back to the one under his hand, kneeling on the floor watching as his things were soon ruined, "Go for Titus, tell him of what happened, he will go with you to collect new belongings."

Samael rubbed his face with his hands, nodding at the order, and took a moment to compose himself before standing to do as he was told.

Nisroc made contact with those unremorseful eyes and pointed at her, "You, my office, now."

She didn't nod, but complied to his order, shoulder checking the two friends of Samael as she passed them, stalking passed the Captain to meet in the designated meeting place.

He turned to his charge, "Sasha, did you know of this?"

"No, sir, I only left for a moment to get my tunics from the washroom and when I came back it had all gone to ashes." He flinched, "Quite literally."

The Captain nodded, squeezing his shoulder fondly, and turned to make his departure, "All of you are dismissed from the barrack until the mess can be taken care of, do not try and touch the embers, they will burn you."

He trudged silently down the hall, his mind slightly haunted by the look in those bright eyes, the one he had only seen once when she had been a small fledgling of a thing and she had willingly thrown his beloved cloak into the flames that had been struck up during the riot that had taken place around them.

The intent had been to cause harm, and that was the outcome that was so desired, Samael was devasted by the loss of his things.

She was sitting back in one of the chairs in front of his desk, picking at her fingernails, as though what she had done was not wrong, and only slightly withheld the jump when he slammed the door shut behind him.

"What on earth was _that_?"

"My vengeance."

He was slow as he stepped around his desk to sit across from her, paperwork completely forgotten about, he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair in similar fashion to the way she had.

"You know that revenge is not tolerated."

"And him being such a jackass to me won't be either."

"Language", he narrowed his eyes, "It is not up to you to punish those in your squad."

"I didn't seek punishment." Her eyes glowed with the same shimmer of the fire she had set over his bunk "I sought revenge. I wanted to _hurt _him. And I _got _what I wanted."

"You did indeed." He rubbed a hand down his face, "Were you anyone else I'd take you straight over my desk."

She threw her belt on his desk, and he looked down at it, surprised by her daring. He had known, of course, they all had, that she would seek comeuppance for the wrong that had been committed to her once she was released from the Infirmary, it was in her nature. She was the truest friend anyone could ask for, but quite the spiteful enemy when she was wronged, and Samael had most certainly wronged her.

"Do it."

"Don't you dare try my patience." He pointed a finger at her over his desk, pointedly ignoring the belt that had been thrown there in challenge, "You are in no position."

"Then I call your bluff." She jet her head up minutely, "Some Captain, can't even handle his own squad. I'd set his things to flame a thousand times just to see his world fall around him." Akeelah was a spiteful person, despite her kindness and forgiving nature, she could be quite the spiteful individual, "Did you see him crying?" there was no remorse to her actions, "I'd take a thousand trips over your desk to witness it again."

"There will be no repeat to this."

"Won't there be?" she smiled at him, "I'm back, baby, and I'm back with a burning passion."

"I mean it, Akeelah, this is the only occurrence."

"You won't stop me."

He slapped a hand to the top of his desk, fingers curling over the belt, "I told you I would never take you over my desk, but this, this behavior is unacceptable, I've let you get passed with many things because of my heart for you, but not this time."

"You wouldn't dare."

"First you challenge me on it." He stands from his desk, stepped around the side, "And now you challenge me against it." He yanked her to her feet with one strong hand and bent her over the front of his large desk, "I will meet your challenge with my own, there is no bluff to call, fifteen in total and you will count them."


	258. Believe

They lay in the garden together, just the two of them, watching the stars raining across the sky. A meteor shower that they were the audience for, oh-ing and aw-ing at the beauty of it.

A little finger points at a rather bright one trailing through the sky over him, "Gabe!" the Messenger shifts under her "Look at that one!"

"Wow!" he pointed up at another one, "Look at that one there!"

They watched them raining above them, a rainbow of fire flying above them, it was beautiful to witness. The Messenger rubbed a hand over her back, where she's curled up against his side, her head tucked under his chin. Her curls tickle his cheek and he smiles at the little one so close to his heart, he's always been closest to the fledglings, it was him who taught them to fly when they were old enough to learn.

He was smitten with the fledgling, "You have to make a wish, little nugget."

"I gotta make a wish?"

"When you see a shooting star you have to make a wish." He brushes his fingers over her eyes, and they close, "You got to close your eyes, first," he pulled her closer to him, "And you have to make your wish. Think hard on it now. It's got to be a good one."

She nods, her face twisting in concentration, and he knew her mind was reeling with her wish on the next shooting star, and he smiles at her determination and concentration, and kisses her nose when her eyes finally open.

"Did you make your wish?"

The fledgling nods up at him, cuddling closer, her head cushioned on his chest, "I wished for you guys."

"You did?"

"Yep."

He scratches at her head, under her curls, and she sighs in comfort "What did you wish?"

"Can't tell ya," she yawns, her eyes focused back on the stars raining above "Won't come true."


	259. Presents

"Luci, what are they doing?"

The fledgling watched the family pass over gifts to the youngest on at their table in the quant little mom and pop ice cream parlor, a special treat after such a long week of being away on missions that she could not join him on and made this trip into a welcome back treat.

"They're giving gifts for his birthday."

"Why don't we do that?" she looked up at him with curiously bright eyes "Give gifts like that?"

He looked down at her, "Because we are not born, we are created."

"I'm gonna do it."

The Morningstar looked down with a smile at her determination, and he knew without a doubt that she most certainly would, but for now they stepped forward to get the ice cream that had been promised.

Akeelah was determined to get gifts for all of her closest friends, and thus went out to determine what was best to give to them individually, thus she went to the only one who would know what to do for all of them.

The Gardener was pruning a rose bush when the fledgling hopped up behind him, and he stopped in his actions to turn and greet her, "Hello, little one."

"Hi Josh! What are you doing?"

She bounds up to his side and he plucks a rose for her, tucking it into a braid behind her left ear.

"Caring for the roses, little daisy." He led them to sit on a rather large rock, "Now, how can I help you, my young friend?"

"I wanna give my friends gifts but I don't know what to get them."

He touched her chest, "Something from the heart." He smiles at his fledgling friend, "They will cherish anything you give them."

She nodded, thinking hard for a moment, and quickly hugged her friend to run off and inquire about her first gifts, there was one place she knew to go for this gift.

…

"NisNisNisNis!"

The fledgling ran up the stone steps into the lounging room of the Pavilion, her first gift wrapped carefully in a paper wrapping, and the Captain looked up from the cheerful conversation he'd been having with his brothers at the sound of his name being called from their young friend.

"Yes, our Baby Power?"

She was smiling, a dazzling smile, jumping over Titus and Abraxos, to throw herself into the Captain's lap. His arms curled around her stomach and she settled against him.

"I got you guys something!"

"You got us something?"

She beamed up at him, her eyes brighter then he'd ever seen them, "A gift!"

"You got us a gift?"

"Well, I thought of it and Salathiel helped me make them and Jeremiah helped me make the braided leather, but I did it all for you!"

He nodded along to her every word, exchanging an amused glance with Haniel at his side, and she nodded, holding her parcel out for them all to see. Abraxos and Titus sat up from where they lay on the soft blanketed ground. Puriel leaned forward to see what the commotion was about.

She slowly and carefully unwrapped her gift and held up five individually crafted stone tokens, braided on a thin braid of leather, and she passed one out to each of them.

Nisroc held it up to examine the craftsman ship, "What does it mean, Baby Power?"

"It means _'brethren'_." She nudged him, "Get it, cause we're family, so that makes you my brothers!"

"They are beautiful, we thank you little one, we are indeed your brothers." She giggled as she was hugged close, "And do you know what big brothers do to their Baby Sisters?"

The little one shakes her head, staring up at the Captain as they each took their necklace from her little hands as she was lifted up above his head, "They give their bellies some kisses."

"Nis!"

"Hush, Baby Sister, I'm busy."

…

"Micha! Micha!"

The little fledgling ran into his office in a bound of excitement, curls bouncing with every step, as she bounded through the door and across his office in her excitement. In her hands was a bound little package.

"Yes, my little star?"

"I got you something!"

He scooped her up into his lap, and she kissed his cheek in greeting, "You go me something?"

She nodded, holding the package up, he took it from her with honest curiousness, "What is it?"

"You have to see!"

He unraveled the paper to reveal the new leather belt, "You got me a leather belt?", she nodded excitedly, running a finger over the runes carved into it, "Kasmara helped me mold this into it too!" he ran his finger over the leather work with her, "You've carved a rune into the leather too?"

"It's for protection, cause you're always going and fighting and going on missions and I don't want anything bad to happen to you."

He kissed her on the cheek, "That's very thoughtful of you, little one." She giggled and kissed him on the cheek in return, "I will wear it always."

…

"Gabe!" he huffed at the little thing that jumped on his stomach, groaning as he curled his arms around her, and she giggled in the acknowledgement that she had caught him unawares, "I got something for ya!"

"I'll ignore the fact that you completely dive bombed me because you got something for me."

She giggled and kissed his nose, "Thanks Gabe!"

"So, whatcha got for me?"

She pulled a large bag over her head and down in front of him, "A new satchel?"

"Look at the buckle!"

He pulled the pack closer to examine the buckle as ordered, and he smiled, running his finger over the rune etched into it, "Is this for safe travels?"

"Yep!"

"I love it!" he hugged her closer, "Just like I love you!"

….

"Big bear, I got you something!"

He chuckled as the little thing ran into his legs from behind, knocking him forward where he stood instructing his class, and he turned to lift her into his arms.

"Hello, little bear, what can I do for you today?"

"I gotchu somethin!"

She held up a small object, a ring, and he took it from her little palm, "You melded this for me?"

"Well, Salathiel helped me, but I made it for you!"

He kissed her cheek, brushing his nose over her neck, "I love it little one."

…

"Luci, I gotcha something!"

He scooped her into their shared bed, setting his book aside, and pulled her up to sit on his stomach instead.

"Whatcha got for me, munchkin?"

She leaned over the side of the bed, clutching at his shirt as she leaned over the edge, and he leaned with her to ensure she didn't tumble over the edge, and she came back with a new leather-bound book for him.

"I got you a new book!"

"A new book?"

"'Cause yours is getting all full!" she giggled as he took it, "With bad songs!"

"Bad songs?"

"So bad! But in here you can write good ones!"

"You little—"

She shrieked when he set the new book aside and turned them over on his bed, "Let me show you a good song."


	260. Bright

She was the brightest fledgling he knew, for surpassed even some in his classes that came to be under his tutelage along the way of the others, she knew much on the same level that they did, and she was still so much younger then the rest of them.

She was one of the few who were allowed to help him when he himself took to mending those who fell under his personal care; typically wounds to the wings and fledglings, among various other things.

The fledgling would sit under him, leaning against his knee, watching as he methodically straightened the ruffled feathers that had been disrupted through the slash that had been aimed for the feathered appendage. He would softly instruct her, guiding her little hands with his own to right the broken feathers, as his students stood over his shoulder watching with apt attention.

"Can you get me the disinfectant?"

She looked up at him with bright eyes, "The one in the orange jar?"

"The very one."

The fledgling nodded, crawling under his arm to scurry off for the jar in question, returning just as quickly as she had disappeared, crawling back under the same arm, and leaned back against his inner leg to pass him the jar he had asked for. He pulled his hand away lightly "You apply it."

She nodded, turning the cap off gently, and reached in with three little fingers to scoop up a rather hefty amount of the ointment, and rubbed it on the gash just as she'd been taught to. He smiled when she helped him bandage the wing, patting her head when they finished, and upon washing his own hands, lifted her up to do as he did.

"Did I do good, big bear?"

He chuckled, lifting her to sit on his hip, brushing his nose against his cheek, "You are the perfect partner, little bear."

She smiled, scrunching up her neck when he brushed his nose up over it, giggling lightly at the attention. The class smiled at the pair of them, the Healer was stern and strict when it came to his classes and to those under his care, but this particular fledgling had managed to worm her way under that strict exterior, for the most part, and brought out a side to the stern Healer that not many got to witness without her being there.

"Can I help again?"

"Of course," he brushes a kiss over her cheek "If another comes by needing our aid."


	261. Dispair

**AN: Remember when I said these were all unrelated unless obviously so? This is one of those times! Had the feels, so be warned, major character death and the depression of a fledgling await here!**

When the Morningstar was taken on the latest mission with the human hunters and their seraph, it had been with a loud echoing scream and a bright blinding flash of light. His wings were emblazoned on the stone flooring under him, and his brothers stared at him in various stages of horror, the Messenger was the worst out of them all, it being him who the other had jumped in behind to protect.

It was the Healer who caught him when his knees gave out, the Viceroy who held the oldest hunter at the end of his sword when he commented on his recently passed brother riddance from the world, and it was the human woman, the mother of the Winchesters who brought up the matter of the fledgling that was always hanging from him that brought them all to their knees.

How does one tell a child that the one raising them was never going to come home again, not in the way he had promised to, that they would never be there to catch them again when they fell.

Michael left the hunter there, gathering up his younger brothers form in his arms, and held him as close as he could so that he may leave this place so that he may break down at his brothers loss away from prying eyes. The Messenger and Healer proceeded him, leaving just as swiftly as a blow of the wind, and he nodded to the hunters at the completion of their hunt, the one that had taken his brother from him, the guardian from their young fledgling, and departed in similar fashion.

He left his brother with Azrael and Anubis in the Healer's domain in Heaven, to prepare and guide for final burial, leaving as the pyres were constructed, and he made his way for his training fields. The Powers halted their training at the sight of him, and circled in close as his composure broke as he finally fell to his knees. They had heard, the way that elites do from one another, of the Morningstar's demise at the hands of a foe that should never have gotten the opportunity for the blow.

The Healer had retreated to his Infirmary with the inconsolable Messenger to try and help him grieve, and all the while, the lonely little fledgling sitting cuddled in the Morningstar's bed waiting for him to return to tell his nightly stories before bed was left forgotten in their grief at his loss.

When the pain had passed, the wound not immediate, they each remembered her.

Guilt knawed at them as they rushed for their Villa, empty without the sound of their laughter mingling together, and they found her sleeping soundly curled around the pillow that he used. It smelled most like him, as did the tunic she slept in, and the blankets that lay curled around her in a semblance of a final hug.

The breath caught in the Messengers throat, turning from them, unable to be the one to tell her that her beloved _'Luci' _was not coming home again. The Healer and Prince let him, knowing that the guilt weighed heavily on his heart, and stepped into the room that had so many reminders of their lost brother that it nearly broke their resolve, but they knew what they must do. The fledgling had the right to know that her guardian wasn't leaving her waiting as she had undoubtedly thought he was doing, though it was something that would never had come to pass, their brother adored the fledgling and always came at her first call.

"Little bear?" the Healer sat on the edge of his brother's bed, pulling the blanket down just a bit to get to her face, and brushed stray curls out from over her eyes, "Little bear?"

"Mmm S'eepin.."

"I know, little bear, but there is something we must tell you."

Her eyes slowly fluttered open, looking over them all, the two before her and the one in the doorway sobbing softly into his hands, and confusion set in when she didn't spot the one that always cuddled up with her to go to sleep.

"RaRa….'uci makin' me w'it for?"

He swallowed hard, "He's not making you wait for him little one, you know he would never."

"T'en w'ere?"

"Little bear, can you wake up for me?" he tugged on the blanket she'd cacooned herself in a bit, it being left to him as Healer to break the news that their brother was not coming back, not this time, and he waited for her to nod sleepily and untangle herself from the blankets, rubbing her eyes with her fingers, "I a'ake big b'otha."

He tried for a smile, but he knew that tears were on the verge of breaking from his eyes, "Something happened, little bear, something bad happened."

"Okay?"

"We're okay, but, little bear, Luci was hurt."

She was awake now, sleep completely forgotten, and she looked between them all with bright alert eyes. She was brighter then most gave credit to her for, mostly with her age being so young, and knew how to read people better then anyone they'd met in a long time, and she knew what had happened without anyone speaking it.

Shaking her head, she backed up, into the dip of the bed where he usually slept, "NO! nonononono! He promised! He p'omised!"

"You know he would never leave you if he could help it."

Michael chose that moment to step in, sitting across from his brother on the edge of the large bed, the fledgling was quivering, as though a top waiting to spin out of control. Her guardian had meant the world to her, his loss was a devastating blow, and their worry overshadowed their own mourning for the way the little one would react.

"This is't funny! 's a bad j'ke! It not funny!"

Curls whipper her face as she shook her head frantically, looking towards the door as though her master would apologize for the cruel joke and come walking in, in that very moment, but he didn't and the only one that stood there was the sobbing Messenger.

When no one came, no flash of blonde hair, no deep cool chuckle, no bright blue eyes, her lip quivered dangerously, and she turned to look at the Healer with wide shocked eyes, "Luci?"

He took a deep shaky breath, "I'm so sorry, little one." She shook her head and crawled forward, his tunic dragging on his bed under her, "No, Luci?" the Healer shook his head, his own eyes crystalizing with tears, "No Luci." Tears spilled from her eyes and she choked on a breath, trying to stay strong but that small resolve of hers breaking as the notion that her guardian wasn't coming back finally set in, and she reached for the one nearest to her as the tears started spilling over.

Michael took her in his arms, folding around her as though he were going to physically block her from all the pain in the world, as her small form shook with the force of her sobs. His brother doted on her, he adored her, being the first one to let him back into their heart upon their return after the war. She had stayed up all night waiting for him to come tell her sleepy stories, and eventually feel asleep thinking he had kept her waiting, only to wake up to have this spilled on her was too much for her small self to take.

He stood from his brothers bed, taking the fledgling with him, swaying from side to side as she sobbed into his shoulder, her little fingers like a kittens claws as they dug into his shoulder from behind, and they swayed in silence. He knew there was no words that would console her, the only ones would be from the mouth of a brother whom would never speak again, and so he just swayed with her until her sobs came to a silent stop and she was completely limp in his hold.

He knew she was still awake, he could feel her breathing against the side of his neck, but there were no words to be spoken.

Her beloved guardian was dead, and his fledgling had completely broken.


	262. Bleed

**AN: Robin0203, lol! I loved your review and I loved the request! They're never the same thing,ever! These next three (including this one) are for you! **

He spotted him the moment he stepped foot within his Infirmary, after the mission they'd been sent on, the only reason he'd be here was due to injury, and his mind combined the parts of protective once guardian and Healer into one being, and with that he worked forward.

The messenger was shivering, his shoulders quivering before his very sight, and it caused him pause at the sight of it.

"Zaves, what happened?"

Behind him, others were coming up the steps, others from the same mission that needed tending to, and with their injured legion came the Archangels in charge of them, Michael and Gabriel looked concerned for the Captain, but dared not get too close, causing him a great deal of confusion, as they edged around the hair triggered Principality.

The messenger opened his mouth, as if to explain himself, and was cut off by he himself grimacing at whatever caused him this discomfort. It pained him inside, to see one he cared so much for in such pain and him not knowing how to help, he knew a triggered patient when he saw one, he's seen much in his title as Healer, and knew better then to try and force the messenger to move faster then he wanted.

They did this at his pace, or none at all, and he'd bolt before anyone could catch him despite any injuries he may have come to him for.

Others watched them attempt to coralle the distraught messenger, and he knew what they were doing, looking between the three of them with wide alert eyes. He was no fool, he knew exactly what their movements meant, and he knew that they knew what they were doing too.

"At least let me see?"

It was a simple enough request, but still, he thought on it a moment before he succumbed and nodded his assent, pulling his cloak away to reveal the dagger sticking into the flesh right above his left hip.

Gabriel makes a noise that's something akin to a keen of pain at the sight of such an object sticking in his Captain, the Messenger made no misgivings, he had favorites, though he loved his messengers dearly, Zaveriel was one of his favorites.

And their fledgling of course.

It pained the Principality commander to know that there was something so wrong with one of his own and he wasn't able to get close enough to do anything about it.

Raphael stared at the foreign object that should decidedly _not _be where it was and makes a quick step forward as though to take immediate action, and stops short when the messenger takes a step back in time with him, knowing in that moment that the situation was so much worse then they could have imagined.

He spreads his fingers, holding his hands up for him to see, and nods to his brothers over the messengers shoulder to take a step back, the healers around them, the fellow archangels, all stand at the ready to jump in for the messenger with a dagger impaled in his side. But they don't they stay away, none of them move until the Healer tells them that they can, this is a precarious situation, something akin to treating a startled animal, at one wrong move they could bolt and make things so much worse then they already are.

"Don't touch it!"

It's the first words he's spoken since he's made his appearance there, and its something that they can work with, so the Healer nods, "Alright. I won't touch it." He bows slightly, so as to not tower over the flight risk of an angel, "Tell me what happened?"

"I was at his left."

Confusion is written on more then one face, as the Power Captain comes to stand at his commanders right, and the other at the Messenger's left, Zaves takes a shaky breath and laughs, a good thing to hear, it means he's not too far gone from blood loss.

"At who's left?"

"Nisroc! You'd think for all his training he'd know to cover his own side!" he points to the dagger sticking into his hip, wincing in pain when he shifts involuntarily and it shifts with him "Anywhozle, there I am watching my six and there this beast comes all stealth like at him, and he was too focused on the battle at hand to see it, so I stepped in!"

The Power looks visibly upset that it was him who had caused his dear friend such injury, a mistake in battle that could have been fatal, and it was all on him. The Healer shakes his head at him, there is no fault to be had, things happen in the heat of battle that one cant prepare for no matter how well trained they are.

"I cut his freaking _head_ off!" despite the precarious position, the quiver in his body, the Principality absolutely beams with pride, "No one gets one on my friends but me!"

It's in that moment that the Power raises an eyebrow, behind his back of course, and the Messenger is clearly resisting the urge to snort. Michael looks as though he wants to pinch the bridge of his nose. Even with a dagger impaled into his side, the Principality can still crack as many jokes as he can, they don't know as well as the Healer does, no one knows the lithe little messenger as well as he does, it's a coping mechanism for him. And his personality, he's lighthearted by nature, but it also serves as his coping mechanism. It's what helps him not focus on the pain he feels, and this most certainly has to smart, so anything is allowed so long as it means he can act as he wishes to and help the one that sits so near to his heart.

"And….Dad!..It hurts Raph, it really hurts, man!"

"Let me pull it out." He steps forward, and theres another step back, the messenger shaking his head, "Let me help you."

"No!", he curls slightly, an action that causes him to hiss in pain, his face flushing void of all color, "No, don't touch it!"

"Then, why come to me if you won't allow me to help you?"

"I'm gonna do it." That catches more then one of them off guard, "I'll pull it out. I knew you'd be mad if I did it back there, _'Why would you be so foolish Zaveriel', _so I thought I'd wait until I was here to do it." He hisses again, going as stiff as a board as his fingers curl around the hilt of the dagger, "You better catch me though, 'cause I know me, I'm gonna go down, dude."

It's his invitation in, and while he loath to sit there helpless as he pulls the dagger out himself, he knows that should he order his brothers to hold him, as he could do, to restrain him so he may do this properly, it would not only damage their relationship, it would damage the actual wound even more with the struggling that would be put up.

So three archangels bend at the knee as he takes a deep breath, ready to bolt forward and catch him when he indeed does fall from the inflicted wound, adrenaline finally wears off and he collapses due to the pain of the injury, and he stares into his former guardians eyes as he yanks the blade free.

It's Michael who catches the small messenger as he collapses, like a puppet whose strings have been cut, scooting him up from the fall as though he's weightless, the oldest archangel's strength knows nearly no bounds.

Now the Healer is permitted to work, and he's in his element, ordering immediately for a pair of shears to cut away at the tunic that blocks the area where the blood is coming the thickest, he sends another healer on hand to gather as many bandages and gauze strips as they can, the Messenger stands at the head of the bed his captain has been placed on, petting his fingers through his hair in worry for the spark of a runt he is proud to call his Captain.

Once the tunic is cut away, two pieces pulled apart, the Healer can see what he's working with, it's a thin line, a clean cut, a bit jagged from movement, but otherwise cleanly in and out. Zaveriel knows that much, there must be no outside movement when pulling a foreign object free, it could cause more bleeding then necessary. He doesn't condone anyone pulling an foreign object free without his say so, but if there was one he would trust to do so on his own, it would be his former charge.

He wipes away any residue from the outside of the wound, and presses a strip of dressing over the incision, applying as much pressure as he can while he rummages through a cart full of different colored bottles, something to staunch the bleeding so he may move on to the next task at hand. When he finds it, at long last, he applies a rather hefty amount to the afflicted area, pressing a bandage over it once more.

"Will he be okay?"

The Messengers tone is light with worry, his golden eyes shadowed by it, and the Healer nods minutely when he pauses to meet his younger brothers eyes. He returns to threading his needle to suture the wide incision closed once more, thanking their Father when the unconscious messenger remains as so, it would be much harder to do with him fighting to get away from the pain of the needled poking in and out of his skin.

"He will be fine. No heavy lifting for a while yet. As light a duty as one can preform for a bit. But beyond that he will be alright." He adds the next in soft humor "Now take a deep breath and calm yourself. You're making everyone antsy with your emotions."

He tucks a thick blanket around the unconscious messenger and lets him sleep through as much of it as he can, he'll wake some time later and demand to know what happened, undoubtedly while trying to sit up as quick as one can and pull on the stitches painfully before he calms back down again.

The Healer washes his hands in a basin of water, rubs a cool cloth over the boys temple to rid him of the sticky sweat that had gathered there, and hums under his breath. His brothers only step back when he steps back, and he gives them both a nod of thanks as he turns his attention to the Power sitting on the bed opposite of them, staring at his friend with hands covering his mouth.

He sets a hand on his shoulder, "Do not beat yourself up over this, my friend."

Nisroc looks up at him, "How can I not?" he looked back to his friend on the bed, "It is my fault that he is in this bed now."

"It is no ones fault but those who mean us all harm.", he held up a hand when the other opened their mouth, to undoubtedly protest, "No, listen to me, you are at fault for this just as much as I am. He cares for you and would jump in front of a blade a thousand times over for you."


	263. Sit Still

Despite his stance in battle, let it not fool anyone, the Captain of the Power's made the absolute worse patient. He swears that the younger angel get's it from his guardian, Michael avoids his domain as though it is some sort of plague to be avoided, and squirms relentlessly when he's there to be attended to.

The puncture wound hadn't been too deep, a slight stab from a hell knights blade, nothing had broken off that needed picking out, and considering some of the wounds he's treated from those sorts of weapons, this one was honestly on the generous side of things.

He sat back and let it bleed for approximately two minutes, to cleanse itself of any impurities, and then he'd stepped in and aided with his own disinfectant. Dabbing at the wound despite the squirms that made it a harder task then necessary. The Healer pressed his palm to it, a gauze strip absorbing the blood, as he dipped a cloth into a steaming bowl of salt water, and then pressed the soaked rag to the wound.

"Cleaned up, Nisroc." He grimaced at the next part, preparing himself to force the so called mighty Power back to his seat, "It only need sutured and your fine to go."

"I don't think so."

And when he tried to get up, he forced him back down with a hand curled over his good shoulder, "It's wasn't a suggestion." He squeezed the shoulder in warning, "Stay."

Raphael would never tell another soul of the whimper that such a fearsome creature released at the notion of getting stitches. It would be their secret, one of many that the Healer held for the sake of others, but he would laugh at it himself when the other wasn't around as to not offend him.

He threaded his needle, mindful to keep his eye on the one he knew would attempt to escape at a moments loss of focus, and straightened the shoulder that needed suturing, "Take a deep breath." He heard him inhale, instructed him to exhale with a roll of his eyes, and dipped the needle into the skin.

Three stitches in and he couldn't take it anymore, "Sit still." He would give him credit for trying, three more, "Sit _still_." Three more and seven to go, "How many times have I told you already! _Sit still!"_


	264. Tell Me?

It was a normal day, too normal, and it had him on edge. Things were playing out too nicely, too quietly, and he knew that it was only a matter of time before something hit that proverbial fan. He tasked himself, waiting for that other foot to drop, with watching his final year class tend to their patch and go patients, critiquing softly as he did, watching them as though this were a test for them.

It was.

But they didn't have to know that.

"Raph?"

The voice behind him made him cringe internally, this was it, this was the other shoe dropping, and he turned to face the one that had called his name. His second oldest brother stood there, looking unsure and worried, a tad angry, but more worried then anything. On his hip sat their shared little fledgling, she was looking down, refusing to meet his gaze, and he knew immediately that something had happened. These two were his shoe dropping, the trouble that was to come and disrupt this too perfect day, he knew it then and there.

"What can I do for you?"

The Morningstar looked down to the fledgling, "Someone has something to show you." The fledgling looked up with wide pleading eyes and he shook his head firmly, causing her eyes to be cast downwards again, and she reached down to lift her robe up to her knee.

Thus was the cause of her recently obtained desire to be carried around everywhere, and he was quick in rushing forward to see the damage that had been wrought to the teeny little leg.

"It's broken, rather badly too, and it's turning blue." He turned a stern eye in her direction, and their gaze met, no matter how hard she tried to avoid it, "How long has this been left unattended."

"…"

"Speak up, fledgling."

She winced, burrowing back into her masters shoulder at his tone, "Four days."

"_Four days!"_ he stood quick, taking her chin in hand, he was careful of her wounded leg, but this was unacceptable "Why didn't you come to me immediately!?"

"I didn' wan' you to be mad."

"I am _mad_." He guided his brother over to an empty bed, motioning for him to set her down, and she whined as her safety was taken away and was left to the mercy of the angered Healer. "You _should_ have told me _immediately_."

He washed his hand in a basin and knelt before her, her leg stretched out on the large bed, he was able to lift the robe away and get a better look at it. She cried out when he poked at it, turning this way and that mindfully of the break of the bone, and he offered a soft apology as he did, though it offered little comfort.

"The break is not clean, the bone needs to be realigned." He turned to look at the Morningstar, "Hold her still." The little fledgling seemingly did not like the way of that statement and tried to crawl backwards with her good leg, whining at the implication of what it meant was to happen. Tears spilled from her eyes when the Morningstar stepped behind her and wrapped her back up against his chest, his bristled chin rubbing against her ear as he nodded to the other archangel, and the Healer gave a nod in return.

He grabbed both sides of the break quickly and yanked them apart, knowing with the eyes of an expert that the bone snapped back together, and the fledgling in question screamed loud and agonized. A sob burst from her chest, followed by another, and another. With the bone in place, he reached for three planks of bamboo, setting them around the leg; one on either side and the other in the back, and a swath of bandages to wrap the leg in.

Her sobs still rocked her little shoulders, clutching at the Morningstar's arms around her as though he would protect her from anymore pain, the Healer hummed softly, as he was wont to do as he worked, and made quick in mixing some warm water and valerian root, pouring it into their equivalent of a human's _'sippy cup' _he handed it over to the small fledgling as he sat on the bed in front of her.

"Hush now, hush little bear, you're alright.", he brushed the spout of the cup to her lips, and like a small fledgling would, she took to it quickly, suckling from it as if she was a small newborn hatchling again. Her sobs slowly calmed into deep breaths as she downed the drink. "Some warm valerian root will help ease the pain."

Raphael lifted her chin with a gentle finger, her eyes meeting his over her cup, "Never keep something like this from me again, understand?"

She nodded, both hands curled around the cup, little fingers gripping at it tightly, suckling from it greedily. They both smiled at the young fledgling, it was at these times her age truly showed, those facades built faded and she desired to be coddled, something they were more then pleased to dote on.

"It's like she's a newborn hatchling again."

"She's barely 7 Eons old." They smiled at her as she drank contentedly, whining when it started to run out, and the Healer left them for a moment to mix more for her to down again, "Hardly out of those years and yet so strong."

He rubbed a knuckle under her chin, "You did great, little bear." Reaching forward with a cloth to wipe her face clean, wiping the tears away, moving the cup ever so slightly to rub at her nose, and then over both little heated cheeks, all the while not disturbing her drinking.

The Morningstar cradled her closer, tilting her back into his shoulder, mindful of her leg.

"Do you want her to stay?"

"Just for the night," Raphael shook out a blanket to cover them both with, "I want to watch her to ensure nothing comes from her decision to leave it to now to seek help."

"I do apologize." The two archangels' eyes met, "If I had known I would have brought her sooner."

"I know." He sighed, "It won't be the last time she hides this from us."

He chuckles when she holds her cup up to him, eyes desiring more, "How about some mint this time?" She doesn't seem to care what it is so long as she gets to drink it, so he mixes mint and chamomile and hands it back, brushing a finger down the bridge of her nose, "You truly are a hatchling sometimes."


	265. Stages

**AN: I'm sorry! I just wanted to explore this a bit more! This ties up the sadness! **

The loss of the Morningstar had hit the flock of archangels hardest out of everyone, even their Father, they had been the closest to him, knew him the best out of everyone. So, it was no big surprise, in the wake of his demise, that they closed ranks. Their Captains took control of their flocks, leading and delegating in their absence, and they rallied around their broken little fledgling with the same empty hearts and watery eyes.

The little fledgling was a broken little mess, often more times than not she would curl herself around one of the surviving archangels and stay there until moving on to the next, not a word had been spoken since the day they had lit the funeral pyre and bid him into eternal sleep with their Uncle, The Void. It was like her voice had gone with him, her smile, the shine in her eyes, the laughter that used to ring for them all to hear had been silenced.

His leaving her had not been willing, and deep down they knew that she knew that, but it did nothing to stop the pain that dug into her little form. There had been so much loss that those little eyes had laid witness to; her guardian being dragged from her side to the prisons and as he was tortured, as they imprisoned themselves in what would become a tomb for many of them, the loss of friends, the loss of the flock she had been 'born' into, and now this. She had bounced back from it all, on a trigger, and this was the final blow to know her precarious house of cards over.

They had swiftly moved passed the first stage of grief; denial. When she spent most of her days curled in his blankets, swallowed by the empty bed, in the spot that would forever smell like he did, staring blankly at the door as though he would come walking around the corner. Smiling as he usually was, chuckling at her being in the bed there, and apologizing for playing such a cruel joke on her, leaving her waiting for him to come back for her and read her stories before sleep and he'd hug her and tickle her belly and tell her everything was okay. There was more then once that one of them had to bring her something to eat, anything, so long as she ate it, it could be a meal of nothing but peaches for all they cared. She'd turn them away, stare not breaking, waiting for her passed master to return to her side once more.

Silence had fallen over the Villa in the wake of his loss, and then his precession into their afterlife of eternal sleep with The Void, they all walked like lost souls without direction, the only thing that brought them together, that kept them from being swallowed by the darkness was the little fledgling who had lost too much, and they worried that this was the time she would not come back from.

After the denial, had come the anger.

It had been a mistake, an error in their judgement, not hearing the fledgling coming down the hall as silent as she was, wrapped in the blanket from their brothers bed, and the Healer had consoled the Messenger in his grief.

"It was not your fault, Gabriel."

"He jumped in for me, Raph, if I hadn't of been so distracted, he wouldn't have jumped in between us."

The Healer squeezed his hand, not seeing the way their oldest brother's head turned, nor the fledgling standing in the shadows of the hall, he did not see the way their oldest brother raised his hand to stop them, and thus made no thought on the matter as he spoke on.

"He would have jumped before a blade for you a thousand times."

There was a small gasp, it was finally the driving force that had him turning from his depressed Messenger, and the both of them turned to spot the fledgling up and about for the first time in weeks. Her eyes skimmed right over the Healer, staring straight at the Messenger, and all the pain she felt was let lose for them all to share in. It was the look of one who had lost so much, and was barely hanging on by a thread, about to drop into the nothingness at the betrayal to the heart.

"You did it…. You…. You took Luci from me?"

"Little nugget—"

His voice choked when the fledgling shook her head, curls matted down from the amount of sleep she slept, from the lack of bathing that she allowed them to help her with. Nothing was the same without the Morningstar there to do it. She took a step back, more tears glistening like raindrops to the windows of her broken soul, "He's gone 'cause of you!" her own voice choked, a sob tearing at the _'you' _in her statement, and the two she wasn't staring at sat on the edge of their seats as if both wanted to get up for her but weren't sure if she would allow it.

"I—I…" tears finally fell from the windows of her soul, streaking painfully down her reddened face, ands he rubbed a fist angrily over her face, "I _hate _you!"

Before anything could be done, she turned and bolted, undoubtedly back to his bedroom, back to the spot in the bed that smelled like him, surrounded by pillows that smelled like him, back to everything that was their lost brother.

The Messenger stared in shock at the hallway, eyes staring at the spot she had just bolted from, and a sob tore from him too. He hunched over, burying his face in his hands, and his shoulders shook with the force of them. He had lost his older brother because of his carelessness and now he had lost the one thing that he had left them to care for in his demise.

Michael sighed sadly, shaking his head, looking down over his crossed arms.

"I wish he were here."

"We all do, older brother." The Healer was watching the spot that the fledgling had bolted from as well, with saddened eyes, feeling her pain as though it were his own. "His loss has touched many."

"He would know how to fix this."

"If he were not gone, nothing would need fixing."

After the anger, came the bargaining.

The oldest archangel had walked in on her begging their Uncle Death to bring him back, it broke his already broken heart into pieces, when the lithe man had to deny her request, it was with a grim denial, saddened at her loss, which was rare from Death. He was in ornately fond of the fledgling that His Brother had introduced Him to.

They caught sight of her waiting there, on the steps of the throne room, for Death to come and visit, and every time he did, she would beg him to make an exception, to bring him back.

Or take her with him.

Bargaining had passed straight into Depression, and it hit hard, perhaps the hardest out of them all.

She slept most of the day away, curled up in his bed, surrounded by things that smelled like him. She hadn't let them bath her in nearly a week, refusing to get out of the bed that needed changing and washing in itself. She barely ate, barely drank, all she did was sleep.

When she wasn't sleeping, she was staring at the wall, the doorway, the wall, back and forth and back and forth.

It was the Healer that came to her, the others having had to return to their duties though they loath to leave her in this state, they could put it off no longer. He would sit on the edge of the bed, not minding the greasy curls that slicked his fingers as he ran them through her messy hair, begging her silently to come back to them, to grieve with them, let them in to help her at least learn to grow passed this. To know there was no forgetting him, but to live on, live on for him.

He was the one that walked in on her crying, and he'd sit next to her on the bed, as silent as ever, brushing his fingers through her greasy curls.

When the tears came, hot and endless, Raphael knew they were for her too, somewhere deep down in herself, for the child becoming the adult, for pain entering her world without the decency to knock first.

The numbness of his loss had passed, and the pain would hit her out of nowhere, harsh and unforgiving, doubling her over and taking control, racking her little worn frame with sobs so heavy they were like mini earthquakes. '_Where are you?' _She would cry out in her silent way '_Where have you gone?' _Of course, there was never any answer, not really, just silence and more sobs.

As The Healer, he knew that crying was a healthy release, the best way to express emotions one could not put into words they did not know how to speak, but for his dear little fledgling, it was a habit now. There were countless days, as he stayed behind to care for their fledgling while his Virtues ran things at the Infirmary for him in his absence, that he sat beside her as she just cried because that was all her little body could hope to do. That blue feeling washed in like an unwanted wave, knocking her sandcastles flat. She sat and stared at the doorway, more tears flowing, sobs silent against the air in the room. She let them fall, not raising a hand to stop them. They splashed down on the pillow in a rain-like pattern and soaked in leaving dark splotches on the dark blue pillowcase.

He became concerned when it seemed as though she was not going to pull through this stage and called on the only one, he would trust to help in this situation, and Rahael had met him in silence during one of her naps, in the doorway to the late Morningstar's room. He offered soft condolences, and he thanked him in kind, gesturing to the sleeping fledgling.

Rahael had only needed to look into her eyes for a moment before pulling him aside, he'd said _"Depression. It is the unseen, silent, unheard killer. It's the pain that's too much to cope with, too hard to deal with and so misunderstood. You can't escape it no matter how hard you try, because it follows you around like a black shadow that's on the inside, eating at you."_ He'd asked him how to combat this unseen enemy _"The solution to depression is to treat the person with compassion rather than telling them that their brain is defective. Love her, deeply, and show her that there is still love in the world, that there is reasons worth living on for, that his loss, though sorrowful, is not the end of him. Stay with her, it is an internal battle she must fight on her own, and though this blow has been a strong one, I have no doubts it will be overcome, so stay with her. When the battle is won, she will be exhausted, and she will need another to latch onto to carry her until she is strong enough to carry herself again. Let her know she is not alone, no matter what her mind tells her, she is never alone."_

And he did exactly as he was told, the Healer was at her side night and day, bringing her peach slices in the morning that always went untouched and uneaten, cool water that went undrunk, new robes that went unchanged into, and he'd sit there either brushing fingers through her greasy curls or reading to her in the soft silence of the room.

He was reading when he saw it, and dared not turn too much to alert her that he witnessed it, but a hand poked out from under the blanket and reached for a peach slice laying on the plate next to her, sneaking back under the blanket, and he smiled when he heard the soft sound of the fruit's flesh being bitten into, and read on to keep himself and her preoccupied.

He was brushing his fingers through her curls absentmindedly one day following that, lost in his thoughts, when the small voice called out to him, "Big bear?"

Pulled immediately from his thoughts, he turned to the one who had called to him so softly, smiling at her in the gentlest way he knew. Her eyes were still puffy, still a bit more sad then they should be, but she was looking at him and that was more progress then they'd had all these weeks long.

"Hello, little bear."

"Big bear…" she looks at the doorway again and he feels his heart sink just slightly, "He's really gone?" he hates this more then he can express in words "Yes, little bear, but he loves you so much. Always."

"I miss him, big bear."

"We miss him too, little bear."

She looks back up at him, and he feels hope come back to him again, "Can we miss him together?" he smiles at her, brushing his knuckles over her temple, "Yes, we can miss him together." He smiles even still when her little fingers curl around his, "Do you want to take a bath?" he can feel light returning when she gives him the faintest of nods, and he's quick in lifting her into his arms before she can rescind her decision.

The fledgling curls around him as he finally lifts her from her cocoon that's been made in the bed of his late brother, her chin resting on his shoulder, hanging limply in his hold, as he carries them out of the room and down the hall for the washroom. One of his shirts already hang on a heated rock, hoping to have gotten her into the bath some time ago, and she allows him to set her down so he can strip her and then strip himself to his under clothes.

"Lavender soap, yes?"

She nods, reaching back up for him when he draws nearer and he takes her into his arms with ease, wadding out into the water under it circles his knees and he sits them there, her between his legs, her little hands resting lightly on his knees.

He lathers up a cloth with the lavender scented soap and rubs it softly down her back, over her shoulders and down her arm, up under it, and he smiles at the slight smile it pulls through the dark tones that overtaken their bright fledgling when he rubs at her armpit. Circling over her belly gently, and then on to the next arm, another slight smile cracks through when he rubs under that arm too, and he takes it as a miles progress. She lifts her legs up, propped up on his knee for her him to rub them down too, getting to her little feet, and smiles at the faint shuffle he gains when he washes between her little toes.

The archangel hands her the cloth to wash at her own privates, turning away when she stands to do so, only looking back when she settles back down against him, and he cups water up into her curls until their matted with clean water and not grease and grime that has gathered there from her last bath. He lightly massages the lavender soap into her curls, making sure to get every strand he can reach, massaging from the front all the way across to the back until her curls are a large sudsy mess under his fingers. He guides her back, a gentle hand cupping the back of her neck, to lay in the warm water in order for him to rinse the soap out.

Bubbles float around them then, as the washing has been completed, and they just sit there in the water together.

"I miss him, big bear, I miss him really bad."

He curls his arms around her, hugging her back to his chest, "We all miss him, little bear, there is not a day that goes by that we do not miss him." He rests his chin on her dripping curls, "Though perhaps not as much as you do. He loved you so much. He adored you. He would want you to live on for him."

"It's hard though, big bear."

"We will take small steps. There is no need to rush into anything. Just small little steps. In his memory."

Her fingers curl around his, "I can do that." She shifts slightly, looking up at him with shadowed little eyes, but he can see it, no matter how faint it may be, that little spark in her eyes, "Can I come with you tomorrow?", he smiles, it's asked in the same manner it had been asked in the very first time the question had crossed her lips.

"Are you sure you want to?" he rubs a hand over her belly soothingly, "We can take another day's rest if you want?"

"No." she shakes her head, leaning back into him further, "I want to go see."

"We can do that."

…

Oren smiles at his first appearance back in the Infirmary after the loss of his archangel brother, his eyes straying to the fledgling and staying there, but he keeps quite when his commander shakes his head in silent denial to question it. Little Akeelah clings to him, peeking out at everything from where she's burrowed into his neck and shoulder, and every set of eyes she meets smiles back at her in greeting.

"How has everything been in my absence?"

Rahael had said that it was best to make everything seem as normal as possible, not to act like anything was wrong, and thus they would do as he said to. This was more progress then he could ever have asked for and he wasn't going to have come three steps forward only to have to take five more backwards.

"As well as can be expected.", Oren falls into step with him as he gets to walk among his patients after his long period away, healers greet him softly as he passes them, "Zaves has been in here at least twice for playing with Holy Fire again." Theres a hint of exasperation in his Captain's tone and it makes him smile, he can feel the smile that barely lights the fledglings face against the side of his neck. "It's been rather cut and dry, nothing too big, nothing too bad."

Raphael nods, adjusting his hold on the fledgling he carries on his left arm, "How badly was he burnt?"

"Not too bad." He shakes his head, "Honestly, it wouldn't surprise me if he went from here straight back to what he was trying to accomplish." Oren glances at him in amusement, "I honestly have no idea on how you two manage to keep him under control."

"A swift and sharp kick to the bottom never hurt anyone."

Oren laughs at the expression that overtakes him, and they fall into companionable silence as they walk through the beds, eyes stray to the fledgling that hasn't been seen among them just as long as their archangel hasn't, but the Virtue Captain shakes his head and silences any questions that could be had to it.

They stay there the entire day, and she stays awake for it, smiling a small smile at those she knows.

Oren and the Virtues return them in kind.

…

Michael bundles her close to him, taking the progress that's being made in stride, and steps up the final stone step to his training fields. Those nearest him seemingly come to a pause at the sight of the piece that has been missing for quite some time, and he gives them a sharp nod, they return to their training at once.

He knows that there are five sets of eyes that have locked onto him, and more importantly, the bundle he carries with him. They have asked on their beloved Baby Power ever day he comes empty handed since the day of the burning of the Morningstar's pyre, and every day he returns with the same response, much to their ever-living sadness.

They come to stand next to the Captain first, Nisroc shares a glance with him, and he nods a quick nod of affirmation. He bends at the knee, so that his eyes may meet those of the fledgling that he's been friends with for as long as he can think of, and leans forward to kiss her on the forehead, "Hoo-ha, Baby Power." The Archangel smiles at the message, and wonders if she knows what it means, "Hoo-ha, Nis." They had given a single chant of the parting message of sorrow and growth at the burning of his pyre. She leans forward, only just, and kisses him on the nose before retreating back to her bundle in the oldest archangel's arms, "I love you, Nis." He smiles, caressing her cheek with his hand, "I love you, too, Baby Power."

The three of them make their rounds, as they usual do, among the training warriors. Paul kisses her on the cheek when they pass, and Titus leans low to press their foreheads together, their eyes meet and it hurts him more then ever to see the sadness that haunts them, if he could take it from her, he would in a wing beat, "Hoo-ha, Baby Power." She kisses his nose like she did to Nisroc, "Hoo-ha, 'Tus." He smiles at her, leaning back, brushing his lips over her temple as he does, "It'll get better, Baby Power, you'll see."

They walk over to the archers shooting their aim at the targets, Puriel meets them there, caressing both her cheeks in his hands, "Hoo-ha, Baby Power." She gives him a ghost of her former smile and it melts his heart at the sight of it, they will get it back again, it will be their next mission, "Hoo-ha, Puri." He smiles at her, "We are all here for you, Baby Power, always." He locks eyes with his Captain as he looks away, and they share a nod, they will get that smile back if it the last mission they ever accomplish.

The trio makes their way to the newest squads, the young trainees bow to their commander and return to their training, Abraxos steps away to meet at his side, caressing both cheeks like Puriel had moments before, and presses their foreheads together like Titus had, "Hoo-ha, Baby Power." She smiles at him, kissing him softly on the nose, "Hoo-ha, Abe." He smiles at her gently, kissing her on the nose in the same fashion she had kissed his, "We love you, Baby Power, never doubt that place you hold in all our hearts."

They came to a stop on front of the oldest class, where another stands in place of Nisroc, and he turns at their approach, smiling warmly at the sight of the fledgling in his arms. Michael huffs in exasperation as Haniel wraps his arms around him, smooshing himself up against the fledgling, but lets it go over his head at the soft slight giggle it elicits from her, he presses their cheeks together, "Hoo-ha, Baby Power." She giggles softly at his closeness, at his squishing his cheek to hers, "Hoo-ha, Hani." He smiles at her voice, winking at his captain, Nisroc has his arms crossed and has raised an eyebrow at him, "I know the cloud seems never ending, but the sun will shine again, Baby Sister, you just have to watch for it."

"I miss him, Hani."

She sniffles and he kisses her quick on the lips, it catches her off guard, and there's not another sniffle.

"We all miss him, baby sister, you are not alone in that pain.", he brushes his nose over her cheek, "Let's share the pain together, okay?"

Michael smiles when he feels her nod against him and reminds himself that this is why he puts up with Haniel's craziness.

(Though he's not fooling anyone, and they all know how much he cares for the wildcard Power)

…

Their progression comes in small steps, just like the Healer had said it would, and it takes her some more time to build up the courage to speak to the Messenger again. She catches him off guard, in his office, when she enters unannounced and unguided.

"I don't hate you, Gabe."

He stares at her for a moment, like a fool, and then nods, "I'm sorry for what I did."

"It wasn't your fault."

She steps closer, and soon stands close enough for her to be lifted to sit on his desk, her toes curling into the top of his thighs.

"He was really good at protecting people."

"The absolute best there ever was."

They share a smile, and she leans forward, curling her arms around his neck as she falls from his desk into his lap, he hugs her back, and they both cry against each other at their shared pain.

…

The laughter returns just as slowly as everything else did, when the Healer snorts awake under her, her fingers curling flower petals into his hair and he watches her for a moment before reaching up a hand to slowly feel at his head. Honestly, the amount of petals she's weaved into his curls as he slept blissfully unaware leaves him astounded.

"Have you been doing this the entire time?"

She smiles, those smiles had returned a week ago, a small giggle follows, they returned shortly after the smiles did.

"You know I must punish you now?"

The fledgling giggles again, fingers falling out of his hair, and giggle harder when he tugs her down over his head to lay on his chest instead. He waists no time, digging the fingers of his right hand into her belly, as his left curls around her waist to keep her in place. She shrieks, falling into raging laughter, head pressing back into his chest as she tries in vain to wiggle out from under him.

"Is that the joyous laughter of a fledgling that I hear?"

Michael's joined them, and he smiles at the fledgling predicament and her calling for him to help, he happily agrees to aid her, and sits at his brothers head, lifting one of her little arms, and digs two fingers into the smooth under surface.

She squeals brightly, the darkness that had shadowed her eyes swallowed by the delighted light that fills them now, tugging at her arm in his captivity and wiggling under the Healer's grip on her waist.

"Why, if you weren't in the position you are, I would have given this spot a bit of kisses."

He only says it for the bright squeal it elicits at the mere mention of it, but his brother smiles up at him, "I'd be happy to do it for you, turn her for me?"

"Oh, do you see this teamwork, little star?"

The oldest twists her carefully so that the Healer may bury his face into her underarm and she screams in laughter, the sadness defeated by the delighted shrieks they pull from her.

"Oh, oh oh!" the Messenger runs into view, "I want her belly! I call dibs on it!"

He falls between the Healer's legs and burrows into the shaking tummy surface, she screams again, blinking back tears of joy, and from his place in The Void, they know their brother is smiling in his eternal sleep at the knowledge that his fledgling was left in caring hands.


	266. Playing

They prepared for their day of rest together, putting their armor away in the armory, talking amongst each other as close friends are wont to do. The Captain nodded at his Commander as the Archangel laid his lance to sit on the stand in the far corner, it had once been created to bring a slow and painful death to the younger brother whom he had reunited with during their stay in the Ether with their Father, now was used in battle against the knights of Hell when battle arose between them.

"What do you plan to do with your day, Captain?"

The younger angel smiled as he hung his braces are the hook next to his helmet, "Sasha say's that he needs new pencils, Paul a new book to read, we are heading to the Market for the afternoon." He smiled at his Commander, "What of you, sir?"

The archangel returned his smile, "Me and my fledgling are intending to spend the afternoon in the Garden."

"She is hardly a fledgling anymore."

"The same could be said about your two, and yet."

Nisroc held up his hands in surrender, "I give to your point." He chuckled "It is hard not to care for them as if they were still young."

"I could not agree more."

"Are you two saints going to talk all day?"

They turned to look at the one to interrupt, and there standing was the ones in question, they smiled at their three charges, Sasha smiles at his guardian, stepping away from the doorway to hug his arm. The Power turns, curling his free hand around the side of his head, pulling him closer in fondness. Paul, taking much too much after Haniel, hugged himself close, smooshing the younger of the two between the elders and Nisroc chuckled in amusement while playfully rolling his eyes.

Akeelah stepped up to the Archangel, and he smiled down at her in greeting, linking their fingers together and he curled his arm around her shoulders to pull her into his side.

"We are only putting our things away."

"Sure you are."

He kissed her cheek fondly, "Have you always been so cheeky?" and nodded to his Captain in parting, turning them away from the three of them, silently bidding them a farewell in parting at the Commander and his young one taking their leave, the other three turning in the opposite direction a moment later.

They walked side by side, curled together, down the Axis towards the Garden, talking happily between each other. The Archangel compliments her and she ducks into herself at it, as they reach their destination, sharing a similar greeting to the Gardener as he trimmed at a few fine bushes.

"What shall we do now?"

She jumped around, her long braids whipping around with her, "Let's play a game!"

"One from your fledglinghood?"

She nodded, "One from then!" he couldn't say no to her face of excitement, and nodded to her request, "What shall we play then?"

"Cat and mouse!"

"We haven't played that game since you became _'too old to play fledgling games'._"

"Please, Micha!"

He laughed, waving her off for the run, "You have one minute." She giggled excitedly and darted off, using her training to her advantage, and once she was out of sight, she climbed up the nearest tree. It had always been her path of choice, and no matter how many time she chose it, she always returned in capture. She was more confident this time though, stealth training had taught her more then she knew when she was a small fledgling.

The archangel chuckled as he finished his counting, the young one had been excelling in training, and he had no doubts that this would be an interesting game of catch between them as he walked into the thickness of the trees. She had skill now, that she did not possess as a young fledgling, but he was not commander for nothing. He followed her tracks, as light and far between as they may be, and came to rest under a thick pine tree.

Akeelah curled a hand around her mouth and nose, as though to dampen the sound of her breathing, watching from above as he circled around the pine tree.

"You can come down yourself." He looked up and she knew that their eyes met, he smiled, and that gave it away "Or I can come up and get you." He leaned against the trunk of the tree "But either way we both know what comes next."

She shook her head stubbornly, hugging herself closer to the tree trunk, "I'm not coming down."

"Then I will bring you down."

He rolled his shoulders, pulling his pure white wings forth, they were tinted still from a prank her and Gabe had pulled some time ago, and he lifted himself up from the ground with one grand swoosh of his wings. She had made it a great distance from the ground and he was impressed by the height she had managed to reach.

""You've climbed higher then ever before."

She tightened her grip as his arms snaked around her middle, refusing to let go for anything, until he dug his fingers into her sides and she shrieked, letting go of her lifeline, and fell back into his chest. She felt him smile against her neck, right under her ear, and she smiled despite her losing the game. She had never won one of these matches and still enjoyed every single play.

The archangel swiftly pulled them up above the trees, she grasped his hands tightly from her precarious dangling position, feeling the safety of his fingers gripping her tighter when she curled hers around his. He lowered them in the clearing some feet away, her still secure in his grasp, and settled them down in the grass.

"Do you remember what we did when we caught you when you were a little fledgling?"

She smiled up at him, leaning forward to kiss him on the nose, "Well, sorry 'bout your luck but I'm not anymore."

"Are you?" he frowned playfully "Well then, I don't think you'll mind if I test that theory, I have a hunch that you're being dishonest and you know what I do to those who are dishonest."

"There's no theory to test."

"Oh, I think there is." She couldn't help but return his smile, going stiff under him when he eyed her neck playfully, and he knew in that moment there was no need to _'test a theory' _and was now just doing this for his own amusement and enjoyment. Training had been rough these last couple weeks, he's seen the way the new squadrons had taken the brunt of the elders harshness, he'd even had to reprimand a few for lashing back out at their teachers, he won't name the few who needed reprimanding, it was enough said that they had all been high strung by the end of the week, and this was what was needed.

Both guardians spending quality time with their 'former' charges.

She shrieked, despite having prepared herself when he began eyeing her neck in a playful way, when he thrust his face into the spot he had been eyeing and burrowed in. Her shoulder scrunched up immediately, her hands coming up to grasp at the front of his maroon tunic, he reached down with his own hand to capture her right one. Their fingers twined together, and he pulled away from her neck as he lifted her arm up.

Residual giggles still fell from her lips at the attack he'd just left from, her head still tilted in the direction it had gone to try and block him away from her neck, but she knew he had found a new target the moment he had intertwined their fingers and lifted her arm.

"What have we here?" A finger poked into her underarm and she giggled brightly, staring up at him with bright delighted eyes "I remember this spot gained some rather bright giggles." He wiggled his finger a bit and she bit back a smile "Now don't do that." He hooked his finger in her underarm "I want to hear those giggles. It's the least you could do after you _yelled _at your squadron commander."

The commander spider'd his fingers over the spot he had taken into focus and she finally cracked, delighted giggles flowed through the trees around them, and he smiled at their sound.

"This, _this _is the greatest music I have ever heard a choir angel, former or current, ever produce."

"Mihihicaa!"

"There we go!"


	267. Picking On

**AN: I'm back dogs! I've decided that I'm going to try and write out chapters in advance and post them from there, so my updates might become a bit delayed. Especially with the holidays coming up, I've got a number of projects that I'm working on for the holidays for family members so I may be a bit slow for a while! Please hang with me! I try to update every Thursday, Friday, and Saturday for sure!**

"Micha, I'm angry."

The little fledgling was a delightful interruption to the day of paperwork he was forced to submit himself to, and he happily tossed it aside with a chuckle as the little thing stormed into his office, an adorable scowl crossing her features at the present moment. She stopped at his side, hands raised expectantly, and he obliged to the silent command to lift her up into his lap. She settled herself comfortably and turned to look up at him.

"Micha, I'm angry." He chuckled again, kissing her nose softly, "So you've said, tell me, what's got you in such a sour mood."

"They're all so mean!"

He rested his chin on her shoulder, "Who is mean to you?"

"They all are! They all pick on me 'cause I'm so small."

The ones in question came to mind immediately, and he chuckled at the cause of her annoyance, it would be short lived of course, but he'd humor it like a good sport.

"Because you're just so fun to pick on." As he said it, he dug a few fingers into her belly, and she giggled just as he knew she would, "What would you like me to do about it?"

"You're the only one who can get them back!" she squirmed away from his fingers and he let her get away from his playful attack, "You want me to give them a taste of their own medicine?"

"Yes!"

"For you?" he kissed her cheek, "Anything."

…

His mission assigned, his query set at the direction of his cherished fledgling, he set off in search of his captain with his companion riding happily on his back to ensure that the deed was carried out as it should be. It was in their immense amusement that they found the mighty Captain standing before a class of first years, watching their progression and critiquing as he saw fit, that the Commander came to stand at his side. They exchanged a quick greeting, the Captain focused on his task at hand, and the archangel turned to look at his fledgling companion in question, and she nodded seriously.

"Nisroc." He snaked an arm around his back, curling his fingers around the other side, "I've been meaning to ask you a few things."

The Captain went still, stock still, as stiff as a board at his newfound precarious position.

"Sir, how can I be of assistance?"

He tapped him on the ribs, digging a few fingers into that one spot he knew to be the worst to have any attention to, the Power shrieked brightly once, clapping a hand over his mouth in surprise when the others turned to look at him in surprise. Abraxos hid an amused smile behind his hand, and the Commander smirked at him, there was very few who could bring their Captain to his knees, but the Commander was one of those very few.

"Sihir?"

He speaks behind his hand, very carefully, he has a certain figure to uphold among the training fields, and his Commander seems intent on ruining that impression and he knows it has something to do with the fledgling riding shotgun has something to do with it.

"You've angered a fledgling I'm particularly fond of."

The archangel felt the Power try and pull away, and he leaned in closer, up against his ear, "If you try and pull away from me again," the dug into his ribs for added affect and he jolted wildly "I will bring you to your knees in front of them all, _little warrior_."

He received a quick nod of understanding, and the Power didn't try and pull away again, though his muscles were stiff as though he were forcing himself to stay in that position by mere force of _not _wanting to be brought to his knees in front of all these new recruits.

Nisroc's gaze turned to the fledgling on the archangel's back, "Does this have to do with the fledgling I see over your shoulder?"

"I hear that she's being picked on.", Michael smiled over his shoulder at her, he couldn't blame anyone, she was just too adorable not to pick on, "And that does not go over well with the one who favors her."

"I thihink she's muhuch too sehensitive about thahat."

"Not as sensitive as these ribs are though, are they?"


	268. Dagger

It was just before the choosing ceremony and she was having cold feet, not wanting to go, lest she make the wrong choice, and that was not something she wanted to put herself and others through, indecisiveness cut through her like the sharpest blade. A groan escaped her as the final set of curls would fit just right in the braid she was weaving and she pulled it apart once more, it was behind her, and she always struggled with the braids on the back of her head without the aid of anyone else.

Choosing meant leaving what she already knew, leaving what she was comfortable with, and that scared her the most. She didn't want to think about possibly messing everything up, not choosing what she was meant for, she didn't know what she was meant for, how did one figure out what they were meant for!

"Need help?"

The deep rumble of her oldest brother's voice came from behind her and she looked over her shoulder pleadingly, "Please."

He chuckled and stepped into the Morningstar's room, taking the stubborn section in hand and weaved it tightly with well-practiced hands, he reached for the band to keep it in place and she passed it over her shoulder. The archangel leaned over her, leaning on her shoulders, and their eyes met in the mirror.

"It is hard to believe that you are old enough to choose today."

"What would happen if I didn't?"

The archangel frowned, "Then you would stay with the flock you were created to." He rubbed her shoulders lightly, "Why do you ask?"

"What if I choose wrong."

"There is no wrong choice.", he assured her softly, "Just follow what your heart tells you."

"But my heart doesn't know what it wants!"

"It will." He smiled at her in the mirror, "Trust me when I say this." He stroked a hand to the back of her head "And no matter where you choose, you will always have a place in each of our flocks, if you decide that your choosing was not the right fit you can be transferred to a new flock." The elder helped her to her feet, her fine dark blue robe sweeping the floor, "You look beautiful, little star." And turned her around to stand face to face, caressing both of her cheeks, he kissed her on the temple, "And no matter what you choose, no matter, we will always love you."

She hugged him, diving into his arms for what felt like was going to be the last time, and he hugged her close to him.

"Do not worry on it, little star, you will know what to choose when the time comes."

He guided her around, "Come, I have a gift for you." She followed him to sit on the Morningstar's bed, and he held out a small box, it was a simple box with a bow tying it closed. She looked up at him curiously and pulled the end of the bow to release the knot, gingerly pulling the top away, to reveal the two fine daggers she'd been allowed to use as a small fledgling, with supervision of course.

She looked up at him with wide eyes, "Why-?"

He smiled, "I've been waiting for this day to gift them to you, I knew they were yours the moment I let you use them the first time, wherever you may go you will need to ensure you can protect yourself and with these you will." He brushed a knuckle under her chin, "And don't look so down. I promise we will not stop seeing you even after choosing, we are quite taken with you, you won't be rid of us that easily."

"You promise?"

"May Father strike me down if I don't."


	269. Prey

She ran through the jungle like surroundings as fast as she could, jumping over felled trees and large rocks as she tried to make her way through, breathing hard as she came to a stop in the middle of a clearing, the trees above continued casting a sheltering cover above her. She wiped her sticky forehead with the back of her hand, looking to the sky through the canopy of leaves, waiting to see if anything would pass over head. When there was not the sight of anything, she turned and carried on, keeping her breathing to a minimum as anything more would give her location away.

There was a thick old knarled tree in the center of the next clearing, she just had to reach that to pass, and she came to a sliding halt at the edge of the jungle line, looking up to the sky once more, waiting to see if anything would pass over head. This time she waited just a bit longer, before taking off at a sprint for the tree, her goal was to reach it, she had to touch the knarled trunk, just had to press her fingers to it, and she'd pass this test.

She felt herself lighten up when her fingers pressed to the old knotted trunk, and yelled as she was swiftly lifted from the ground, in her mission to get to the tree she had missed the shadow that came swooping over the clearing. Arms curled around her waist, she grasped at their wrists, and a bristled chin pressed against her ear as they traveled, at a bit of a leisured pace, back to the other end of the jungle thicket.

"You passed."

"You _cheated_."

"I don't know why you're so sour," he pressed his lips behind her ear, knowing full well that it would drive her crazy, "You _passed_."

"If I passed," she tried leaning away from his bristled chin but he followed, there was no where for her to really go up here, he had her right where he could ever want her "Then why'd you still swoop me up?" she gave a soft bright shriek when he burrowed back in, pulling them to a stop, hovering over the same clearing in the thick canopy she had stopped in.

He spoke into her neck, causing her to try and pull away, "How did you put it as a fledgling?" he nuzzled in, beard only adding to the torture, "Because I simply love _'picking on you'_."

"Yohohou are wahahahay tohoho sensitive abohout thahahahat!"

"Not as sensitive as your neck is though, is it?"

"Nis!" he found a particularly sensitive spot and brushed his chin over it, "I'm not a flehehedgling ahahanymore!"

"Are you sure?' his teasing made her giggle lightly, "You're still so small."

"I'm not short!" she burst into giggles when he found a spot just behind her ear to focus on, "I'm lithe!"

"You know," he pulled away at long last and she was able to take a deep shaky breath, "I can do this to you all day, you passed my test, and Haniel has taken over for me."

"Don't you dare!" She shrieked when he burrowed in on the other side "Nis! I'm seheheherious!"


	270. Distrust

The fledgling hid partially behind the large Power's leg, little fingers curled tightly around his, peering out at the woman that Aunt had brought back for the two humans who had helped Her and Daddy reunite again. She looked harmless, but then so did the others when they were on their own in the bunker, they had looked harmless when they tried to get her in the spikey crown.

The blonde woman kneeled, her sons behind her cautiously, they knew this particular fledging could act like a innocent child, and take down half a dozen demons on her own without so much as a single weapon on hand.

"Hello." The fledgling hid more so behind the large angel she clutched to as tight as she could manage, "I'm Mary." She tried to meet those bright blue eyes "What's your name?"

Her smile dimmed when the little girl whined and turned to hide her face in the man's leg. He seemed to regard her for a moment, she seemed much more respectful to them then her sons did, and thus where respect was given, it was gained, and she had his respect. For the moment. He was extremely leery of anyone with the name _'Winchester' _and for good reason.

She looked up as the larger angel stepped slightly before her, hiding the fledgling angel away from her sight, and heaved a sigh. Her sons had not made a great first impression with the angels, in particularly, the archangels, and it was no surprise that those under their direct command would be mistrusting of them.

"What are your intentions with our fledgling?"

His voice was deep, it rose from his chest, and she blinked at the it when he spoke. Thus far he had been a silent sentry, standing guard before the small girl since his arrival there, and hadn't let go of her since she had taken his hand.

"I just want to meet her," she looked to meet his eyes and nodded to the little thing hiding behind him, "I've never seen a child angel before."

"We keep them from prying eyes."

He stared into her eyes, and she felt the vague impression that she was being judged, and then he nodded, swiftly turning where he stood and scooped the fledgling up on his arm. She pressed in close to him, his beard brushing over her ear, and gripped his shoulder tightly, "Nis, lemme down!"

"She just wants to meet you." He pressed in close to her ear, his beard scratching against her neck and making her tilt away from him some, "We are family, family protects each other, I will not let anything bad happen to you." He kissed her behind her ear to earn himself a smile, "Tell her your name, Baby Power?"

"My names Akeelah."

The woman smiled at her, "Hello Akeelah, I'm Mary Winchester."


	271. Drown

It was a hot day that Sunday, the temperature was the highest they'd ever seen, and the four of them retreated with their fledgling to the private lake that lay just a bit of a ways behind their villa. The entire trek there, the fledgling clutched to the Morningstar's hand as though she were walking to her end, and he exchanged a confused look with his oldest brother. Their fledgling loved going to the lake, loved kicking at the water and jumping over the waves that rolled softly inwards, so the hesitance was confusing on their part.

The Messenger was the first one to break away from their caravan, running forward for the lake, running into the shallows and collapsing into the cool water. The Healer was behind him, though a bit more leisurely, and sat in the shallows that came up to his mid waist.

Their fledgling let go of the Morningstar's hand when they got to the edge of the water, the waves lapping up against her toes, and she stared down at it silently. At the release of his hand, the archangel turned to look at her in concern, kneeling down to speak to her, "What's wrong, little one?"

"Luci, can't."

He brushed his hand over the side of her head, "Can't, what?"

"Can't!" the fledgling gestured towards the lake and he frowned as it took him a moment to piece it together, slowly but surely, and he nodded, "You can't swim." She nodded, looking down to her feet as though it was shameful not to know such a simple thing, and he chuckled, "Why such the long face?" he scooped her up and began wadding out in the water, they got about mid deep and sat down, the water circling above his upper chest.

She clutched onto him tightly, her little fingers like kitten claws digging into his shoulders, and he gently pried her away from him to hold at arm's length, so she took to clutching his arms instead.

"It's okay, uncurl yourself, little one, you can still touch the bottom."

Slowly, she did, and though the water came up to her neck, she could indeed touch the bottom and that brought relief to her. He instructed her, guiding her to float on her stomach, she whimpered in fear and he dug his fingers lightly in the belly "You feel that?" she nodded "I'm not going to let you go." She nodded, clutching at the hand that held her front up.

"Spread out your arms and legs."

She did as she was told, spreading her arms and legs out widely, looking up at him for further instruction.

"Kick your legs and wave your arms."

The fledgling did, and she sprayed water everywhere, but managed to spin herself in a circle. Though the Morningstar held onto her belly securely, keeping her from sinking under should she begin to, and he laughed at her success and accomplishment, pride evident in his tone.

"You're doing great, little one!"

Lucifer looked up to meet the gaze of his oldest brother, Michael had settled himself just a bit away and was watching them practice their new action, raising his arms for the fledgling, he looked down to his charge "Do you want to try and swim over to Mike?" she seemed unsure at first, fingers curling around his again, but he nodded encouragingly, thus convincing her to do as was wanted.

Michael held his arms out for her, smiling encouragingly to her coming triumph, and she smiled at him from her place in the security of the Morningstar's arms, kicking harder under instructions, and felt his hands slowly move away from her body and she felt herself move forward of her own accord, there was a brief struggle, and though both archangels were ready to jump in if it were needed, they let her continue on her way.

A good five minutes later she felt the fingers of the oldest archangel curling around her middle and pulling her close to him, and she smiled in triumph, shrieking as she was lifted up above his shoulders, "You little fish, did you see that?"

"I did it Micha!"

"You most certainly did."


	272. Cabbage

Being the Healer, he knew the importance of well-balanced diets, and encouraged all he saw in his Infirmary to maintain as such, especially the hardworking ones such as warriors and the blacksmiths, and they all left with boxed ears when he caught them rolling their eyes at his commendations.

He turned from his patients to somewhere a bit closer to home, he knew that his fledgling loved her peaches, they were always her favorite snack; whether it be before bed or after midday or at any time, it was always peaches. He knew that she ate her intake of fruits, but never saw her eat her intake of vegetables. It was his new personal mission to ensure that she ate her intake of vegetables.

With the help of his oldest charge, Joshua, they picked a bundle of lettuce and cabbages and peas and green beans. He would make a salad for the rest of them, he knew that his brothers would have no problems eating his creations, though their fledgling was a mystery.

Even Gabriel, who had a predisposition to sweets, would eat his leafy greens under his carefully watching eye and the stern word from his oldest brother.

He smiled as they entered their garden, the ringing sound of the gate clicking shut, the giggling of their fledgling as the Morningstar walked with them up the path, her riding happily on his shoulders. Gabriel would be the first to enter, hopping away from their eldest brother as he made a witty quip and was reached for, freeze slightly at the sight of the salad on their table and huff a sigh of exasperation.

"Really?"

"Sit.", he points at the chair the Messenger usually takes in these hours, using every ounce of that patented _'big brother' _voice that he can muster, and it's just enough to bring the Messenger to silence and step forward in silence to take his seat. Michael enters before the other does, holding the door for the two of them, and the fledgling ducks down to avoid hitting her head as they enter.

The older two are less put out by the greenness, thanking him for his thoughtfulness and taking up their designated seats at the table, the little fledgling is moved from her perch on the Morningstar's shoulders to sit on his knee instead, she eyes the green leaves curiously, little fingers poking at the greens carefully. Her head tilts to the side as a bowl of it is placed in front of her, looking up to her master in curiosity as he grabs a vinaigrette and sprinkles his own bowl with a few drops, and she copies him a moment later.

The Healer watches carefully for her reaction at the new food that is being tried, she makes a face at it, letting the second piece she'd picked up fall back into her bowl. He sighs, sensing an argument and a challenge in his near future.

"What's the matter, little one?"

She makes a face and takes a sip of her sweet drink, "It's yucky."

"It's good for you."

"Doesn't make it any less yucky."

He points at her little bowl, there is not much there for her to consume, "Eat your greens."

She shakes her head and his eyes narrow, "No. It's yucky."

"You need to eat more greens." He gives her a stern look, "Eat it."

"No."

He looks to the brother she sits with, and the Morningstar raises his chin in acknowledgement when their eyes meet, "If you do not eat your greens then there will be no stories before bed."

She looks stricken, eyes going wide, and mouth dropping in awe, "But that's not _fair_!"

But her master nods in agreement with the younger archangel's statement, when she turns to look up at him, and she turns to pouting instead. Arms cross over her chest and she huffs, falling back to lean into his chest instead, until hands lift her under her arms and set her in the seat next to him.

"I am eating my greens." He settles her bowl before her and a utensil to eat it with, "You can sit on your own if you don't want to eat them." He gives her his own stern look, "But you won't leave that spot until that bowl is empty."

"But Luci!"

"That's final."

She pouts again, leaning back against the back of the chair, and settles for glaring at the Healer with all her might. He'll loath to admit, but her glare can be somewhat unsettling, she didn't blink when she did and it was unnerving, but he refused to allow himself to be swayed otherwise and pointedly ignores the glare.

Soon enough they each finish their own bowls, the fledgling still pouting and glaring, and they move on to their conversation as they usually do after a long days' worth of work, acting as though the fledgling is not present no matter how much she tries to gain their attention, but they do keep watch, as her resolve breaks down when no one talks to her, no one lets her sit in their lap, always returning her to her chair when she tries to crawl up, and soon enough there's a small sniffle that breaks through their light conversation.

Michael is the first to look over to the sound of the sniffle, the others still engrossed into their conversation, and he reaches over to wipe a small tear away when it escapes her eyes, "Eat your greens, little star, and you can sit with me."

"Buhut it's _yuyucky!_"

"Be brave for me and eat then, like the little fierce warrior you are."

She stares up at him, her glare having been replaced but upset and teary eyes, she wants to sit with someone but they won't let her. Weighing her options, she decides on the one that would gain her the result that she wants, and picks light at the greens in her small bowl, slowly nibbling on them until her bowl slowly but surely empties. She sniffles again, showing the empty bowl to the oldest archangel, and he keeps his end of the bargain and lifts her to sit in his lap. The fledgling cuddles close, wiping her eyes with the back of her hands.

"There, there, no need to cry." He softly rubs away the tears with a large finger, "You did splendidly, and we are very proud of your eating your greens." She makes another face at the yucky taste that lingers in her mouth, but as she curls close to his chest and clutches at his purple tunic, she doesn't mind the yucky taste. He passes her his cup, full of the same sweet juice she had been drinking, and she takes a sip happily to clear away the lingering taste.

A hand rubs at her shoulders and she peers out from where she's hiding in her biggest brothers tunic to see who it is, her master smiles at her, rubbing soothing circles against her back.

"You did great, you stubborn little thing you."

He passes his brother a cloth from their table to rub her face clean of tears and such at her small break, and he does so with gentle motions, whispering praise to the fledgling as he does to ensure the tears do not return again. From across the table the Healer smiles proudly at her, reaching into his robes for something, and produces a peach for her to munch on, to which she takes quickly before the offering can be rescinded.

"Can I still have stories before bedtime?"

The Morningstar chuckles, "Yes, you can still have bed time stories."


	273. Caught

When things began to fill their days, keeping them all busy from spending time with their fledgling, allowing her to help them in going about their duty, leaving them exhausted upon returning to their villa where they wanted nothing more then to turn in to their beds and rest for the night, before waking and repeating the entire day over again.

They had been too busy to notice the slow withdraw from their little fledgling, as she gave up trying to help them with their duties, got fed up with being told to wait and left standing in her place as they moved off to tend to something that needed tending to. Her other friends shot her guilty looks as they moved off to tend to the things that they needed to be tending to.

It had been another choosing ceremony, so she knew that things would get busy, but after a month's time of the hard labor and forgetfulness, she began to feel lonely again, something she hadn't felt since the very first time of her stay.

Jeremiah had been the one to notice first, having more time for her to spend with him then any one else, he was the one first to notice her withdrawnness, the way the shine seemed to dim from her eyes, and he had made his findings aware to the ones in charged with her care, and they each promised to look into it as they bustled about to their duties that needed tended to.

He knew that they were distracted with the newest additions to their flocks, especially when it got worse, and it lead him to the notion that the matter had never been addressed.

"Little 'Keelah?" the choir elder knelt down to her, lifting her chin for their eyes to meet, they were so dull, so affected by the loss of their usual shine, so full of pure sadness that it broke his heart to witness, "Is everything okay?"

She nodded, "I'm okay, 'Miah."

The choir elder didn't believe it for one moment though, but let the matter slide, in her tense state it would do more harm then good to push the fledgling at the moment, "They will come back. It is just a busy time for them." He rubbed his thumb over her cheek, "You know they love you, right?"

"I know." She fiddled with the edge of her small robe, "I love them too. I just miss 'em."

With their being busy, he took up the business of taking care of her in the manner that was needed, he took to tucking her in, within the Morningstar's room when he was forced into staying late, it was he who had asked his choir elder to do so, it was he who took her to the market district when she needed new robes and such, and it was he who took to grooming her wings.

It was with that action that he began to notice the true extent of the damage done by this horrid time, when he ran his fingers through the little soft feathers and came up with ones missing, they had been plucked cleanly, from the shaft completely. He kept it to himself though, not mentioning it to the silent little fledgling that sat before him so silently, he knew that the answer he would gain if questioning it would not be a truthful one.

This was a matter he took to the Healer himself, "Sir, I need a word with you." The Healer nodded, sorting through a new class, going through a list of names and sorting them between each one of his Virtues "In a moment, Jeremiah."

The choir elder knew that the 'minute' would be much longer then a 'minute' and shook his head firmly, daringly grabbing the archangel by the arm, tugging him around. The Healer stumbled slightly at the sudden change in footing, and his papers spilled to the floor under them, "No. I need you now. I need a word with you _now_."

It was so unusual for the choir elder to act out such as he was, to be so distressingly adamant action of getting his attention at that very moment, and he knew that this time it was imperative for him to give him the moment of the Healer's time that he had requested, and so he passed the papers he held off to the Captain of his Virtues and gestured for the choir elder to his office for the privacy of the conversation they needed to be having.

He shut the door behind him, sitting at his desk as the silence of the Archangel's office enclosed around them, Jeremiah settled himself in the seat on the opposing the archangel at his desk.

"Yes, Jeremiah." He folded his long fingers, "How can I be of assistance to you?"

"Not to me." He leaned forward to place a lone feather on the archangels desk, "To your fledgling." The Healer's eyes widened, as he leaned forward to pick the feather up, twirling it between two fingers as he examined it closely, it greatly resembled the galaxy color feathers that shined in the star light from their young fledgling, "Has Juda been pulling her feathers again?"

The elder shook his head, and it caught the Healer's concerned attention, "I don't think this was done by another individual." The archangel leaned forward, "That is a bold statement to make." Jeremiah nodded knowingly, "I found it in the Morningstar's bed."

He sat back in his chair, the archangel went back to staring at the feather in his fingers, "You think it's being done intentionally by herself?"

"Had any of you been paying much attention to your fledgling," it was most certainly intended to be a stab at the conscience, "You would have seen the change in her the last few weeks." He leaned forward and laid his hand on the edge of the archangels desk, "I think you and yours need to spend some quality time with your fledgling, and I think it needs to happen very soon, she is growing many unanswered bald spots." That brought more alarm to the archangel, and he closed his fingers around the feather he held in his hand."

"You are right," he nodded, looking back down to that feather he'd been given, "This requires immediate attention." He heaved a sigh, "I knew we had all been rather busy, but to think this as a result to our neglect." He shook his head, guilt etched over his features, and Jeremiah made no move to console him, in this matter, they had failed the fledgling he had granted guardianship over to them. "I will attend to this matter immediately."

…

"Michael, I need a word."

The Viceroy had nodded, not responding to his order with a verbal response, passing pages between himself and his Powers as they sorted out the newest training squadrons. The Healer knew that the matter at hand needed to be dealt with immediately, and with great care, so he stepped forward and tugged him around in the same manner Jeremiah had done to him only moments prior.

He had not flown here with this on his mind to be pushed to the side.

His older brother seemed surprised at his sudden harshness, the Powers behind him peering around their Commander as the Healer held up a feather for him to see with his own eyes, they went wide as he stared at it. The familiar coloring, the way it curved, he knew exactly to whom this feather belonged to.

"Has someone been pulling her feathers?"

The Powers behind him bristled at the thought that someone would dare harm their fledgling in such a manner.

Rapheal shook his head, "_Someone _has." And he watched his older brothers eyes widen at he implication he gave, nodding when his eyes sought his for confirmation, he passed the papers he held over to his Captain, "Nisroc, there is something rather personal I must attend to, I leave you in charge of things."

The Captain nodded, taking the papers from him, "Tend to our fledgling, sir."

They watched their commander leave the field, on quick wings, with the Healer.

…

"Gabriel, we need a moment of your time."

"Would be glad to give it," he was moving rapidly around his office, "Most certainly to you guys," sifting through scrolls with both hands preoccupied, "But I'm a bit full at the moment", their oldest brother held up the galaxy colored feather when he turned to bid them farewell, and the Messenger went cross-eyed as he stared at it "So can we raincheck—is that what I think it is?"

He himself had gone through a period, during the time when it was just them and their Father, that he had begun to pull his own feathers out at the agony he felt of being so alone to his own thoughts, and the scrolls he carried fell to the floor in horror as he stared at the achingly familiar feather, "Not _her_?"

His older brothers nodded, and he threw everything that remained in his grasp over his shoulders, shoving passed them out of his office, they followed soon after, marching down the hall towards the entrance of the Aerie "Zaves you're in charge!"

"It's about damn time!"

They each spun at that admission, staring closely at the angel leaning back against the stone pillar on the edge of the Aeries great veranda, "You _knew_?"

"Why did you think I kept pestering you for a minute?" he waved them away, "I can hold down the fort. Go fix my best friend."

…

The Morningstar was sitting among the stairs that lead to his Pantheon when they approached him, sorting through pages upon pages, it had been a surprise to them all when there had been elections for new ones to join the choir, it hadn't had a new election in eons, not since his fall and the ensuing war.

"Brothers?" he looked up at their approach, them tucking their wings in as they landed just before him, eyes going wide at the feather being held out to him from the Messenger's hand, "What can I—This looks familiar."

He knew exactly where the feather had come from, he knew who's wings it had been plucked from, who's color it matched, everything about the delicate little feather. And, now he knew why Jeremiah had been trying to pull him aside for all this time, and he had pushed him away unawares of the trials that were being had right under their noses.

"Where is she now?"

Another joined them, "In the garden." They turned to look up at the one who instructed them on where to look, Jeremiah looked saddened, as though they had let him down, and in a way they most certainly had, they had let down the fledgling that he had granted them, "Where she always goes when she is alone to herself."

They each thanked him softly, and he nodded to their appreciation, watching as they took to the sky to ensure the possibility of them making it to her side before another feather was pulled.

…

She sat there, alone, in the shadows of a large tree with tears gathering in her eyes at the aspect of spending another day alone. Another day pushed to the side. Another day she was forgotten about. Another day where she tucked herself into bed. Another day where she read herself nighttime stories. Another day where she fell asleep alone and cold in the big bed.

The fledgling sucked in a deep breath, curling her fingers around the shaft of a long slick flight feather, grimacing as she pulled on it, it was like pulling out a rather large hang nail, yanking a band aid off in slow motion, and she sucked in a cry as it finally fell loose and a spot of blood appeared there. Another hole among a section of them. It was better to feel the pain, the ache of her wings after pulling her feathers, then to feel nothing at all. Better to feel that then the loneliness. So, she let a tear escape, and reached for another long flight feather, her fingers quivering around the shaft again, and she released a small cry at this time when it was pulled loose and free. More tears fell, blurring her vision, as she reached for the third one.

Always four, she always pulled four, for the four that forgot about her despite their promises not to.

A dark hand appeared in her blurry vision, staying her quivering hand where it lay curled around the third flight feather, and she hiccupped at being stopped.

"Oh, my little bear," that voice was familiar, and she swallowed another cry as she looked up to meet the gaze of the bright blue eyes that _'big bear' _had, "What have we done to you?"

He managed to uncurl her fingers from around the feather shaft, curling her fingers into a little fist that he wrapped his long fingers around, carefully pulling her wing away, to pull her into his chest, "Let it out, let it out now," he rubbed at her back as she cried heaving sobs into his chest, and he carefully pulled her wings out to get a better look at them and frowned at the sight that carried through for them all to witness.

The Healer lifted her into his arms, rubbing soothing circles against her back, encouraging her to let the tears flow at all the balled up emotions she carried with her, he turned back to his brothers, they each watched him with their beloved fledgling in the precarious position they were currently in.

"Let's return home?" he brushed his hand over her head, and curled her around in his chest tightly, "We'll all go home."

He shared a look with his brothers, and they nodded in agreement, their Captains could manage everything in their absence, they had more important things to focus on at the moment then the newest electives in their flocks.

They followed him as he took to the air, his great emerald wings, heading in the direction to their private garden, walking slowly up the garden trail up to their villa. The fledgling had sobbed herself limp, hanging from his arms limply. He guided the into their blanketed and pillowed sitting room, nodding at the two eldest to sit down first, and they did, reaching up when he cradled the little fledgling and leaned forward to set her down between them.

The two eldest brothers took her in their arms, petting her head and murmuring words of apology and comfort to her as her wings stung from the freshly plucked feathers, the Morningstar hummed soft lullabies under his breath, rubbing a hand down her arm and brushing a finger over the bridge of her nose.

Raphael was sure that she was in good hands, "I'll be right back." The Messenger stood by and watched him go, watched their older brothers care for the fledgling among the pillows, and left in the Healer's wake, "Me too."

It was the Healer who returned first, with an arm full of supplies, and sat across from his brother to set his things down in the order of which they were to be used, and the Messenger returned shortly after him with the Morningstar's thick blanket and the worn book of stories he had on his side night table.

First things first, Raphael passed the fledgling a small cup, their equavalant of a sippy cup, and she sniffled, latching onto the cup in question and took to it without question. She suckled the warm sweet drink down greedily, and he smiled at her gently. It as in this moment she was truly a little young fledgling.

He pulled the small wing around, mindful of his movements, and reached for a small bottle and a clean cloth to wipe at the reddening pink bare part of the wing. She stiffened, whining around her cup, when he dabbed at the wings bald spot.

"Hush now, little bear, I know it stings a bit," he tried to work as quick as he could, knowing from when he'd cleared Gabriel's wings that the disinfectant stung, and that was the last thing that the fledgling needed was even more stinging, "I'm almost done." She nodded over her cup, a cup that was quickly running out of its contents, and gave another whine when it was emptied, the Healer smiled at the fledgling, "Do you want more?"

He smiled when she nodded, and he reached for the jug he had brought with him; chamomile and lavender always calmed her down when she was worked up. Michael smiled to the fledgling, leaning over to kiss her temple, as he took her cup to pass to his younger brother to fill once more, and then handed it back to the fledgling, who took it once again with vigor.

The Healer finished his washing of the bald spots, and nodded to the Messenger, who wrapped the blanket around the fledgling and handed the book to his older brother, to which the Morningstar gladly took, and they all gathered around their fledgling.

They would dig further into the fact of the plucking later, but for now, they would comfort her by presence, and so they cuddled around her, refilling the cup when needed, and listened to Lucifer's deep voice as he read a story from the thick worn volume.


	274. Cave

Titus and Abraxos were the two that were assigned to the two of them when they went out together to make their deliveries, they had been somewhat behind watching mindfully for anyone who could mean them harm, and admittedly, they fell lax in their guarding when they had flown for a food four minutes and nothing came out to them. So, they turned from guarding the shoreline of the massive sitting cliffs that over stood the rumbling sea underneath, to converse with one another instead.

Their only warning of something wrong was the scream from the fledgling. She had been riding in the messengers arms over the tumultuous sea, and they watched as something soared through the messengers wing and sent them tumbling down for the sea below.

Titus separated from his side to try and gather up the targeted messenger and their fledgling, catapulting himself into the water to try and catch them before they could fall deeper then he would be able to swim. The current was strong, like hands tugging him one direction though he desired to go another, the waves crashed harshly overhead, as he came back up for breath before he dove back under the waves in search for their wards. He cursed himself as he did, had they not gone lax in their guard this would not have happened to them, when he couldn't spot messenger or fledgling, no matter how deep he dove under the waves, he knew that trouble was afoot.

He reached out of the water, spreading his wings as far as they would go, and lifted himself from the churning waves of the unruly sea.

Abraxos returned to his side, holding one by the back of the collar, hands shackled together to null his grace, Titus's eyes widened.

"_Sorath_?"

…

She knew as soon as they began to fall that her friend as injured, and despite that injury, as they hit the water, he pulled her closer to him. They would not be separated, he refused it to happen, and they floated with the current towards the rocky cliff side. His hand scraped against jagged sea stone, snarled stone edging, but he caught them on the side of a sea cave.

Climbing out of the flooding entrance, back where the water was only at his ankles, for the time being and set his small friend down. Akeelah was as limp as a doll, having swallowed all that water when they first landed and the shock had hit her, but he remembered enough of his medical training from the Healer to start compressions to her chest, leaning in to listen to the gurgle of water as air refused to go in but tried to come out.

He uttered a quick apology, and dug his finger into her throat, the fledgling gagged immediately and he helped to turn her on her side when she vomited up the water that was clogging her throat. Tears mixed with the salty sea water, and her breakfast and lunch spilled with the water onto the rocky floor they lay on, he helped her back up when the water seemed to be emptied, though he knew she was far from being okay. There was still so much that could go on, they needed to get back to the Healer in Heaven for more aid, and the cave they took refuge in was quickly beginning to fill up with water as the rolling tide raised higher and higher.

It gathered at their necks, and he curled her close to him again, and with her limpness she came easily enough, "I need you to take as deep a breath as you can for me, okay?" she nodded sluggishly, her soaked braids brushing against his chin, the water circled around her mouth and was rising ever quicker, "_Now!"_

There was a quick intake of breath, from both of them, and he dove under the water just as a final wave completely drowned the small pocket of air they had.

…

"I could _tear your grace out_!"

They all backed away from the enraged archangel, the viceroy being restrained by three of his Powers, the Healer and Messenger stood behind their own Captains, but it left the eldest Power free to do as he pleased. They all knew how fond he was of the fledgling in question and the missing messenger, and thus, none of them stopped him from rushing forward and punching the angel that had been brought to them in the face with as much strength as he could muster.

It cracked his nose in two, the jaw bones on either side snapping completely, and bruising already began to form under his eyes from the severity of the impact, though the Power paid it no mind as he grabbed him roughly by the collar and yanked him forward, pulling him nearly from his feet completely from how much taller he was over the angel in his grasp, "You'd better hope, for your safety, that they return unharmed."

…

Zaveriel gasped for breath as they finally surfaced above the rolling waves, only to have another crash over his head, his friend didn't gasp as he did, hanging limply from his arms, and thus he gave her a harsh squeeze and more water spilled from her in a strangled gasp just as another wave opened over them.

He flinched as he spread his damaged wing, spread it wide around him, and lifted them from the waves in one mighty swoop. They hovered dangerously for a moment, dipping slightly enough that the waves crashed over his feet, water dripped from every surface of them; wings, hair, clothes, feet, faces, arms, legs, everywhere. He grimaced, taking another deep breath, and gave another great swoop of his wings.

The messenger bit back cries as he built up speed and bulleted into the sky, cutting through the astral planes, and cut into the reality that their home was built in. It was like seeing something so beautiful for the first time, that he would admit without shame that he had cried a bit at seeing it, though whether be from the relief that they had managed to get home despite it all or the pain in his injured wing that beat fiercely none would be able to decipher.

They landed in a loud clap on the stone veranda around the gates, their wet clothes flapping loudly against the fine stone, the guards rushed forward to see whom it was, and their eyes widened. It had nearly been a day since they had last been seen and they rushed forward to attempt and lend a hand. The messenger beat them away, growling lowly, and hovering over his unconsciously fledgling friend, and they immediately backed away.

Though the messenger at their feet was as lighthearted as they came, his temper could be explosive if pushed beyond that point, and he was close to it as they stood.

He grit his teeth and lifted himself to his feet, his wings dragging behind him uselessly and weighted from their soaked feathers, he bent one last time to lift the limp fledgling in his arms, and she hung there like a rag doll.

"Let us pass?"

They nodded immediately, stepping to the side to allow them entry, watching as the messenger walked limping with every step passed them and down the steps to the Axis. People milled about, not noticing the pair of them, not until he snapped at them all to move. The snap, loud as it was, the commotion, drew everyone from their nooks and crannies, Father and Aunt stepped from the Throne room, the Messenger from his Aerie, the Commander and his soldiers from the training fields, and the Healer from is infirmary.

They all watched mesmerized as the messenger walked down the cleared Axis, stumbling from the adrenaline beginning to wear off, and falling to his knees. Akeelah rolled from his arms as he fell to the hard stone, smacking the ground with a loud wet flap, and rolling to lay limply on her side. He saw darkness enclosing on him, as the pain in his wing became unbearable, and all he remembers seeing is the worried face of his Father looming over him, and then the sudden feeling of being weightless as he's lifted, and then nothing.

Nothing but cruel darkness.


	275. Caper

"HANIEL!"

Their captains yell from down the hall has them all turning to look at the one in question, his eyes have gone wide, and his face a paler color, as he pushes himself up with a curse to make for the exit. His timed prank had gone off too soon, and just after his captain had gotten out of the washroom, it was not the timing he was waiting for and he knew when it was time to book it for the exit.

When their captain appeared in the doorway, he took one look at his face, a expression that he recognized from his own fledglinghood, and ran down the steps as quickly as he could. He could hear the sound of boots following him, and he tried to book it across the training field as quick as he could, but he was never quick enough to out run his older brother, and thus, is tackled from behind rather quickly.

They fall to the grass, tumbling over the field gently against the rough undergrow, Haniel struggles to get out from under his brother, he truly does, he reaches out with both hands and digs in the soil in his attempt to escape. But his brother lays over him, a heavy weight, and he quickly gains a startled shriek from the Power under him as he digs his fingers into his sides.

"Nis, no!"

His fingers move up to his ribs and he jolts, digging his fingers into the grass under him.

"Did you forget so soon, _baby brother_, what happens when you prank _me_?"

He tries pulling himself free again, and the fingers attached to his ribs move inwards slightly, causing his arms to give out and shriek again, "Nihihihis! I'm nohohot a bahahahaby anyhyhymohoroe!"

"No?" he chuckles into his ear when he makes the younger Power jolt again, barking out a bark of laughter, and struggles completely gives up as he instead tries to curl into himself. "You'll always be my darling _baby _brother, won't you?"

They had been raised together, Nisroc the elder to the young angel currently under his mercy, they had been quite close while growing up, grew apart slightly as the elder was quick in promoting through the ranks, and it had been at the elders recommendation that the admittedly, light of the Powers be inducted.

"Nohohohhoho!"

"Oh," he chuckled in his ear, "I'll get you to say it." He wraps his arms around the younger Power's waist and turns them over onto their backs, and he digs his fingers into his lower belly, Haniel jolts again, arching his back against the older Power's chest, shrieking brightly at the attack, and tries to squirm free of his new position only for his older brother to wrap his arm around his waist and dig his left fingers into his hip, bringing about another bright shriek from.

"Say it," Nisroc is smiling, he can feel it from above, these moments between them are so rare these days "Say you're my baby brother."

A bristled chin, one from a beard, buries itself into his neck. There were two spots that he could never stand anyone going after; his lower belly and his neck. Those were his worst places. And Nisroc, being his older brother, would know all about it. He gives high pitched intermittent shrieks at the feeling, as a nose presses against his neck, lips pressed just behind his ear, and he loses it, absolutely loses it. His shoulder scrunches up and he tries to get his words out but it's a struggle when he can't focus on it because his sole focus is to get him out of his neck.

"I…I'm…_Nis stohohohop!_...I…I ca…."

He feels his brother pull away and he takes in breath after breath, his eyes are watering, but they meet his older brothers when he presses their foreheads together, "Say it?"

He nods, huffing, despite his position, "I…I'm your…your baby brother."

The elder smiles at him, pressing a tender kiss to his temple, "Damn right you are." And buries his face back into his neck.

"Nohohoho! Nishihihihis!"

He reaches for the older Power's hands, and as recompence for his trying to escape his grip before he was allowed to, he dug his fingers into his lower belly, chuckling when he screams in laughter and arches again.

"I sahahahahaid ihihihit!" he squirms, shrieking brightly as though he was a fledgling again playing with his older brother, "I _sahahahahaid _ihihihihit!"

"Oh, I heard you," he stops to speak, doing so into the skin of his neck because he knows it drives him crazy, "I'm just reasserting my role as your big brother."

"I know it! I swear!"

"I don't think you do," he rubbed his chin in the spot just under his ear and he shrieks again, "Considering that you just pranked me."

Haniel looks up at him, and their eyes meet, "I'm sorry?"

He chuckles again, "No you're not." He digs into his belly again, "I can see it in your eyes." He can feel his younger brother go stiff in the preparing for another attack, "So I'll keep going until you truly are." And he digs in again.


	276. Celestial

Michael walked his way down the steps into the inferno that was the forges of Heaven, the blacksmiths hard at work crafting and mending weapons of the warriors, but he had eyes only for one Armour in particular.

He was hard at work, pounding a mallet to the end of a long thin blade of a sword, sparks flew over his head and faded into the air around him. His was caught up in his own thoughts, or else he would have noticed the arrival of his particular archangel behind him.

It wasn't until arms wound their way around his lower stomach that he stopped, startled at the sudden feeling of being pulled back into one's chest, and his gently lowers his mallet, "Mike?"

"You should not be working so hard?"

He looked up, though far from being a young one, he was still just as short as a tall youngling. Something his fellow armour brothers made fun of him for, and met the amused eyes of his Archangel, a chin rubbed up against the side of his neck, a nose brushing over his ear.

"Puriel needs his sword mended soon."

"He will understand if you took a moment to rest," he squeezed him around the middle in a gentle way, massaging his thumbs into both of his hips, "Which is something you need more of." He smiled when he felt the younger lean back into his chest, heaving a comfortable sigh, "You must be so tense, muscles so worked, working all day in the forges." He reached around for his lower back and dug his fingers in, the blacksmith groaned lowly, arching in to the touch, "And you've been working for so long, rumors say it's been for two days without pause, everything must be so sore."

"I know what you're trying to do."

"A hot spring, how does that sound?", he moved up to his mid back, kneading knuckles into the tense muscles that spasms under his touch, and he feels his armour lean into his touch, "And a nice massage, for those toughened muscles, then perhaps a nice long sleep?"

He watches the fingers on the mallet slowly loosen, and he's quick in reaching forward to grab it before it hit the floor underneath them, setting it aside on the table.

"How does that sound?"

"Can…Can I sleep with you?"

"If you come with me, yes?"

The archangel smiles when the blacksmith quickly undoes his leather apron and tosses it over his work table, quickly returning to the archangels side, and he quickly, in a swift fashion, scooped him up into his arms bridal style, turning back in the directions of the steps.

There's a hot spring, bubbling and warm, back behind their villa surrounded by a group of willow trees and that's where they find themselves. His archangel sets him down to his feet once more and directed him to the spring, turning with the word over his shoulder of his going to get soap from their own wash room, and he quickly strips from his sooty clothing and tenderly climbs into the hot spring.

A deep, long, sigh emits from him at the heated water wrapping around his sore muscles, it was like a thick warm blanket curling around him and soothing away the ache. He's so comfortable that he doesn't start when hands close around his shoulders, and thumbs dig soothing circles into his shoulders, right where his wings would be had he had them manifested.

"Why don't you clean yourself up and then we can do get some rest?"

One of the hands removed itself from his shoulders and hands him a bar of soap, and he gives a slight whine when the hand does not return to his shoulder, "There will be more of that once you are finished washing."

Elyon washes quickly, making sure to focus on the spots that are particularly matted with soot and grim from the soot and the grime that built up from hard days in the forges, and a large hand pats his head as though to remind him, "Don't forget to wash your hair." Fingers rub at his scalp slightly, "You are not sleeping in my bed covered in soot and grime."

He nods, ducking into the hot spring to wet his hair, and lathers enough soap into his hands to wash through his curly hair, until it's soft to the touch and lightens up enough to a near blonde color. Michael passes him a warm plush towel to dry himself with, and a fresh set of robes.

The blacksmith pulls the shirt over his head, and looks up at his archangel in quick succession, and he gains himself a chuckle from the act, "You look like a fledgling doing that." He curls both hands around his cheeks and presses their foreheads together, "Ready for sleep?"

He nods, and gets swooped up again, just like before, and this time the archangel sighs as a head rests against his shoulder.

The Healer gave an approving nod, playing a game at the table with their fledgling, and the Viceroy spares him a smile as he carries the blacksmith down the hall towards his room. His room is large, wide open, and quite sparse. It had big windows that allow the cool early autumn breeze to blow in as it pleases. And the bed, the bed is big and wide, soft as a cloud, the blankets light as a feather but so deceiving warm, the blacksmith would know, he's slept in that bed before.

Michael sets him in the center of his bed, covering him with a blanket as he turns to remove his boots and leather vest, leaving him in nothing but his under trousers and tunic, and he crawls into bed next to him. He lays on his side, and curls an arm around the armour for him to pull him into his chest.

"I haven't see you in so long, little Ely, we used to be so close."

"Until you sent me into the prisons."

"An error in my judgement that I will never forgive myself for.", he looked down at him, from where he lay leaning up on his elbow, and kissed him on the ear, "It took your smile from you as well." The arm curled around his midsection tightened its grip around him, and the blacksmith looks down at it, "You are as hardened as those celestial metals you work with." The blacksmith was too busy staring at his fingers to see the look that crossed over his face, "But I can fix that." He leans down, burying his face into the blacksmiths neck, and Elyon shrieks brightly, scrunching up on himself instantly "Mihihichael….Michae…..Micha stoop!"

"I don't think so," he blew a deep breath into the curve of his neck and he shrieks in return "We need to soften that heart again." Elyon tries to squirm away but the archangel has him trapped with the arm around his waist. He blows into his neck once again and the blacksmith arches, his fingers curling around the archangels, trying to tug them away from around his waist, anything for him to squirm away from the attacks to his neck, but they didn't budge and he was well and truly stuck.

"One more?" the archangel chuckles into the skin right under his ear, "For old times sake?"

"Nohohohoho!"

"One more." And the archangel burrows in deeply, and blows as hard as he can into his neck, and his blacksmith _screams _in laughter, because as he blows out into his neck, those fingers resting over his lower belly dig in harshly, it goes on for a moment, the younger angels fingers grip tightly at the sheet of the bed and holds on as much as he can as he just succumbs to the torture.

And then he pulls away and he falls limp against him as he turns on his back, pulling the blacksmith up to rest on his chest, he chuckles when he feels the blacksmith stiffen as if preparing himself for more of an attack once again, and he rubbed a hand down his belly soothingly, "Calm down, my little armour, I'm done with my attack, I swear." He pokes him playfully at his belly, "For now, anyway."

His arms cross over him snuggly, and he presses his lips to the younger angels cheek, "Rest now. I will be here when you wake up."

"Swear?"

"Swear."


	277. Bound

He stepped through the entrance to the temple with ease, the guards stepping away at his appearance, and resettled at their post as he waved them down, he was one of the few allowed in the inner temple without expressed permission.

His staff echoed as it clicked against the floor with every step he took, and he looked about him to observe the different pieces of art painted across the walls, different hieroglyphs. They were beautifully painted, with intricate detail. He nodded to the guards at the door way to the inner temple, and found his charge pacing back and forth before his throne, wringing his hands together in the way he did when deep in thought and worried on some matter unknown. His human form was tense, something had captured his inner attention, and it was not something good. The godling growled lowly when his thoughts seemingly led him nowhere, and he turned, upturning a tray of fruits and a jug of whine that had been placed on a small table near the left arm of his throne.

"What has got you so worked up?"

The Healer went ignored for a moment, the other huffing softly, fists tightening at his sides. He turned to peer at him with silver eyes, from over his shoulder, and his sharp canines glinted in the lighting of the sandstone room.

"Something is stirring." He went back to pacing, his hands digging into his thick furlike hair, "I can _feel _it but I can't _name _it."

"Well." He stepped up to meet at the throne, leaning his staff against the lefthand side, he sat to watch his Egyptian charge pace back and forth, his head turning one way and then the other as he did, Anubis was aggravated about something. "Pacing does no good on solving the matter." He caught him by the wrist when he made to cross in front of him again, tugging him down to sit in his lap, the godling yelped and looked up at him, he smiled to him in greeting, "Tell me what you feel?"

He nodded, the godling was not one to share such things with those outside of his circle of deities, but the Healer was a special case.

"Something is stirring in the underworld, something massive, but I can not say just what it is."

"Well, think on it, what lays in the underworld that could cause such a disturbance that you would feel it?"

Anubis looked up at him blankly, "Umm… _Everything_?"

The Healer nodded, he had regretted the words as soon as they had left his mouth, "Point made.", he pat his waist to get him up, and Anubis stood as ordered to, "Come," the archangel reached for his staff, "Let's return home."

The god raised an eyebrow at the Healer, as though he had forgotten, "I _am _home."

"_My _home."

…

"Brother?", the Healer turned to look at the call, meeting the gaze of his oldest brother, he smiled and turned back to the task at hand as he bent to collect the ball that had been dropped at his feet once more, and threw it far. "Do my eyes deceive me?", they watched the creature run after the ball having been thrown, "Is that a _jackal?"_

His brother chuckled, and Michael smiled at the sound, "Indeed, Anubis." The elder hummed, raising his chin in acknowledgement. The Egyptian had helped them through many wars, and they returned the favor in kind, him and the Healer had formed quite the odd bond.

"What brings him here?"

"Something is stirring.", Raphael bent to pick up the ball once more, patting the hound on the head, and threw it once again, "Deep in the underworld. Usually he can easily pick up on the nuisance, but things have been rather helter-like in the ancient city recently, his mind is too congested to figure it out."

"And you figured playing a game of fetch with him would help?"

He chuckled again, and Michael smiled once more, the godling could be very amusing at times. He bent for the ball once more, the jackal huffing at the exertion, bent forward on its two paws waiting for it to be thrown again, and he complied, chuckling when the jackal darted away once more.

"It gives him something to focus on and clear his mind of clutter, and, don't let him know I told you this," the Healer leaned over to him, "He likes playing this game. Honestly, sometimes I think he's more jackal than anything."

"He reminds me of Erathaol."

"Father help us if they were to ever meet."

…

He sighed again as the godling took to pacing the length of their sitting room in the villa once more, even after a rousing game of fetch he was still too preoccupied with other happenings to name what it was stirring in it's prison down in the underworld. The Healer rubbed at his temple in exasperation.

"What did I say about pacing?"

"I can't help it!" he turned a rather annoyed look to his celestial guardian, "You of all people should know a nervous tick when you see one."

"Watch your tone."

He went ignored as the Egyptian went back to pacing again, muttering under his breath in the native ancient tongue that all deities knew in his world, rubbing his eyes with his hands.

"What we need to do," he caught him by the waist, having stood with his back turned, and he pulled the young god back into his chest, "Is to clear your mind."

"That's easier said then done! Do you realize all that has happened in the last weeks? There is so much to fix and so much to rebuild, _your _war bled unto _my _people. Temples have to be rebuilt, Ma'at is being as annoying correct as ever, the council is gathering, Osiris and Horus are still mourning the loss of his wife, Azrael isn't talking to me." He paused, "Have you heard from him recently?"

"He has been rather busy, but yes, I have heard form him." The Healer swayed them side to side, not interrupting his rambling, best to let him speak the thoughts that clouded his inner sight then to allow them to remain unsaid, "He apologizes for the neglect but wants to get with you soon."

That seemed to satisfy the deity for a moment, as he fell silent, "I think I know of another way we can try to clear your mind."

Silver eyes met his from below, "How?"

"I don't think you'll like it."

"Don't say you have a cure and then not explain."

He smiled as his own thoughts captured him, it had been some time indeed since they had last had this type of moment, "I can show you rather then tell you."

"Anything to help me."

"Anything?"

"Anything."

He dug his fingers in his upper belly, hounds were known for their sensitive tummies, and his was no different. Anubis yelped, a bark of a yelp, and bent forward as he burst into immediate laughter. The Healer bent with him, he wasn't about to let his charge get away that easy and continued the treatment in getting him to clear his mind. Perhaps a good dose of laughter would clear his mind to allow his inner eye to see what needed seen.

"How about now?" he couldn't help but chuckle at the godlings reaction, "Can you think clearly now?"

"I cahahahan't!" fingers closed around his, and he will not lie, the godling nearly pulled his hands away, his strength was most certainly deceiving with the visage he kept most times, it often served him well in battle. But he moved his own hands away, digging into the middle of his belly instead, and the godling fell back against him, fingers curled around his wrists as a means to hang onto something.

"Yes you can, I know you can, think hard." He found a particular sensitive spot and focused on it a bit longer, "Clear your mind and think."

Anubis choked on a breath, his eyes widening as he saw, "Rahahahaph! Ahahaharchahahahangel! Stop!" the fingers stilled and the Egyptian heaved a breath, "Ammit."

"The demoness?" his charge nodded against his chest, "Do you require assistance in caging her again?"

"Nah, she's a minor goddess, I can handle her."


	278. Electricity

She knew her big brother, big bear, was angry, really really angry, when sparks came from his fingertips, and though it was rarely focused on her, this time she knew for sure it was aimed at her. It had been a mistake, an error in her young judgement, and it had enraged the archangel to the point that his fingertips sparked.

"I'm sorry!"

He advanced on her like a wolf hunting its prey, "Big bear I'm sorry!"

It had been a simple mistake, a simple wound that she should have told him about but she hadn't and it had gotten infected, and now it was so much worse then it should have been. She backed away as he approached, a look of annoyance on his face, anger at the fact that he had told the fledgling to come to him with any injury, _multiple _times in fact, and yet every scolding he gave when she came to him a week after the event occurred never seemed to set in.

So perhaps there was a firmer hand that was needed.

The healer who had been attending to the fledgling backed away at the Healer's approach, not wanting to get in the way of his query, and despite her injury, the fledgling scurried back as much as she could, anything to get away from the coming archangel.

But she's no match for his stride, no matter how hard she tries to flee, and he scoops her up in a moment. She fights against him, pushing against his chest, despite the pain it shot up her arm from her wounded palm, and he gives her a firm smack to her bottom.

She yelps and sniffs in at the suddenness of it.

"You stop that right now."

There's a harshness in his voice that makes her whine softly, seeming to know where this goes from the tone he uses with her, he turns her to face him, "Do you remember what I said would happen if you kept another owie from me?"

"Big bear, no!"

"Do you _remember?"_

Akeelah nodded, sniffling pitifully, and her hands flew away from clutching at his robes to cover her small bottom from his big hand.

"No, big bear, no!"

"_Akeelah."_

She nodded, not moving her hands in the slightest, "You said you'd…you'd…. 'pank me."

"Very good." He nodded, adjusting her in his grip, and she began to fight him again, and thus he tugged on her ear lightly, "You stop that right now. I am well versed in turning injured little ones over my arm and smacking their bottoms, you stop this right now, or I'll turn you over and lift the bottom of that little robe up.

"Big bear please! Nono! Nono!"

He still turned her over his arm, patting her bottom rather harshly, and though it was not too rough it still elicited a round of sobs from the young fledgling. Once his chosen punishment was through, he turned her over again, righting her up, and cuddled her close. She clutched at the front of his robes, burrowing into the folds as much as she could, and he rubbed soothingly at her back.

"Hush now little bear." He rocked her calmly, "It's all done now."

She sniffed deeply, her small shoulders quaking at the force of it, "Hurts big bear!"

Whether it be her bottom or her hand, he wasn't sure, but he comforted her nonetheless. He cupped the back of her head and cooed down to her as he turned to return to his duties.


	279. Embers

**Hahahahaa An alternate way of their meeting!**

They came to their home at the explosion that rocked Heaven, it could have been seen for miles around, and they followed the orange glow to their home watched as the wide windows blew out from another explosion. Riots had overtaken them, they were no match for them all, and they were overcome with the stones that were thrown at them, the words hurled in their direction that stabbed their hearts like daggers, couldn't they all just see that they were doing what they were being ordered to do.

He came to stand before a blazing fire, it stood as a wall, protecting those on the other end from their attempts at reclaiming their home, and his eyes met those of a young fledgling. Barely to his waist, hair done back in tight braids, braids that the water of the rain above dripped down, their eyes met and she raised her chin in defiance.

In her hands were two of his own possessions, his cloak, his treasured cloak, and a book. It was the very first book he had ever been given, as a gift, from Father, before He left them all to fend for themselves. He shook his head, raising his hand, and watched her eyes harden as she let them fall into the flames.

He fell to his knees as his most prized possessions burned before his eyes, and she leaned forward, in a voice so much harder then one her age should ever possess, he heard just barely over the cracking of the wild flame, "If we burn, _you _burn with us." And he watched as she turned away from him, disappearing in the crowd.

…

They had been forced to sleep on the damp grass of the training field that night, their Pavilion too damaged to attempt and recover it in the coming night hours, and he stared up at the stars as those eyes haunted his memory. They had been filled with such hurt, so much distrust, and as much pain as any grown angel would feel in these times.

The snores around him kept him planted in this plane of time, this reality, but he let his thoughts wander until they could wander no more and he finally forced himself to close his eyes for rest.

He had been sleeping as peacefully as one could on a rain sodden ground when he felt it, something light, but thick, being draped over him, and he reacted in a heartbeat of a moment. His fingers closed around a small thin wrist, and he yanked the offender down, turning them over so that he may be on top of his attacker. His hair was undone, let down from the bun he normally wore it in, and it rubbed over his shoulders and across the arms of the fledgling he had captured.

Those same eyes from over the fire stared into his and his heart skipped a beat. He reached over to feel for what had been draped over him, and he pulled the corner of a thick wool blanket over his shoulder. He turned, giving her a look of curiousness, and confusion.

"Hello."

He whispered, as the not disturb the others, and she stared up at him in terror at having been caught by the fearsome Power Captain. He sighed deeply, it was not an image he had ever wanted to present to one so young, and he tried for a gentle smile, "My name is Nisroc, what's yours?"

The little thing was quivering under him, he could feel her shakes against his chest, her fingers gripped tightly at his upper arms, on both sides, and she merely stared. Not a word escaped her mouth, horror shining in her eyes, and he sighed again.

"I promise you I am not that bad." He pressed his forehead to the fledglings, hoping to ease the tension from her little self, and he only felt her quivers even more, "Even if you destroyed my things."

"Prove it."

The first words she had spoken to him since earlier that same night, and he smiled at them, it was progress no matter how small it may be. Her voice was soft, though as sharp as a dagger he had no doubts when it came to cutting enemies down with words alone.

"Prove what?"

"That you're not bad."

He nodded, thinking back on the days he used to spend his free time in the Garden, "I used to play in the Garden with the fledglings most days of free time", he bent his head forward, the blanket he had pulled forward fell over the top of both of them, as if shielding them from any unwarranted eyes, "And sometimes I would do this to them."

The Power was quick in pulling the little thief's tunic up from over her belly, and buried his face into the smooth surface, her reaction wasn't anything less then adorable as she arched her back and a soft bright squeal escaped her lips that was quickly followed by bright peals of laughter. He curled one of his hands over her mouth, to muffle the sound as to not wake the others, and he leaned over to shake his beard into her side, he knew from proper research that his beard was rather torturous, nibbling softly at the smooth skin under him. Her laughter was strained by his hand, and she began to squirm when he blew out softly against the lowest ribs, but she was the one who had challenged him to prove himself and _prove himself_ he would. Small fingers had curled around the wrist of the hand that covered her mouth, and he easily shook the ones curled around the arm of his free hand away, as he reached to pry them loose and pull her arm up over her head in order for him to burrow himself in there. She arched again, a bright squeal vibrating against his hand over her mouth, he brushed his nose into the smooth underarm, digging his chin in rather deeply and she jolted under him, squealing again, at the prickly feeling that tingled over every inch.

Finally, after a half a round of torture, he pulled away from her torso, letting her hand go and it immediately curled around her chest protectively.

"I'll let go of your mouth but you have to promise to giggle quietly?"

She nodded and he did as he promised, resting his arm back down around her side, "Does that prove to you that I'm not bad?"

There was a soft round of giggles, and little fingers tugged lightly at his beard, "Your whiskers tickle!"

He chuckled softly, leaning forward to kiss her nose, "They do, don't they?" he leaned in next to her ear, "You want to know a secret?" she nodded lightly, her braids rubbing against his cheek, "I _know_ they do." He rubbed his own cheek over her ear and she giggled again, tugging at his hair until he relented and pulled himself back up, "Not that I've proven myself, can I know who my little friend is?"

"My name's Akeelah."

"That's a beautiful name," Nisroc smiled at the fledgling, "For a beautiful fledgling." He turned onto his side and pulled her closer, nearly on top of him to shield the little thing form the cold damp ground, and wrapped his arms around her so that he may wrap her in the thick warm blanket as well, "What brings you here so late?"

"I'm sorry I burned your cloak."

He gave a saddened sigh, "Me too."

"I thought you might get cold though, cause it was supposed to get really cold and it might rain a little again, and I didn't want you to get cold."

The Power tilted his head to the side, "So you brought me a blanket." A curious eyebrow rose when she shook her head, "I brought you _all_ blankets. People may not like you but that doesn't mean that your not sad too. You're just the only one who woke up." He turned, as though to check on her claim, and found all of his men curled under the same thick blanket he had then curled under, "Will wonders never cease, you have a big heart Akeelah, it is refreshing in these times."

He laid his head back down, tightening his grip around her, "Shall we try and sleep now, little friend?"

"Can I stay with you?"

A smile graced his features, "I would be honored if you stayed with me."


	280. Feral

It was a sight to see, the Viceroy of Heaven standing at the gates, finger raised in stern likeness, and a hound laid as close to the ground as one could be. It's eyes were wide, saddened in the way only a hound's could be when they know they've been caught doing something they shouldn't have been.

"What have I told you about biting Castiel."

He got a huff and a slight whine in return.

"I don't care how you personally feel, he is welcomed here by Father, so you will let him pass without harm."

A soft bark, more of a yap, and another huff.

"You know you can't bite people because you don't like them." He wagged his finger a bit, "That is not a viable excuse." The angel hound whined again, softly, crawling forward on all fours, "No, you now you did wrong. You know you did bad."

The hound crept forward once more, nudging his nose against the toes of the archangel, on of the rare days he wore his sandals, and his toes curled at the feeling of the wet cool nose that pressed against them, and he couldn't help but let his angered façade fade and he kneeled down to pet his head.

"Erathaol, whatever am I going to do with you?" he scratched a few fingers behind his left ear and smiled when the head of soft fur butt against his hand, "And, why can't I seem to stay angry with you?"

He gained himself a lick to the face, a long furred tail wagging happily at the attention he was gaining from his older brother. Michael chuckled at him, "Don't tell anyone I told you this." He took hold of the furry head and pressed a kiss to his nose, "But, good boy."

The hound quickly morphed before him, until he was left cradling both cheeks of the angel hound in his humanoid form, "So does that mean I'm not in trouble?"

"Oh no, don't be misinterpreted, you are still very much grounded."


	281. Struck

The little fledgling pressed a hand to her stinging cheek, her little eyes watering at the sting that covered her reddened cheek, she backed up a step into a set of knees. She looked up silently, eyes longing for someone to stand up for her, and her savior in armor smiled down at her with a gentle ease.

"Captain."

The new arrival was disinterested in the other, the one whom called his title, and he knelt to her instead, taking hold of her chin in gentle fashion to turn her face in the direction of the light to gain a better look at the print that was left on her cheek.

"_Captain."_

He heaved a sigh, "Castiel.", he looked up from the fledgling he was looking over, never lifting from his kneeling position, "I will be with you in a moment." He caressed the reddened cheek with a gentle warm hand "I am looking over a fledgling." He held his hands out for her and she nodded, stepping into his grasp, his fingers curling under her arms to lift her to rest on his hip. The others shifted behind him, as he focused on the fledgling resting on his arm, and she waved at them from over the Captain's shoulder and they waved back.

Puriel, the medic of their unit, stepped forward to caress her cheek, "Are you okay?", she nodded against his hand, returning his smile, and gave a small giggle when the Captain bounced her on his arm lightly "She is alright." He brushed his lips to her forehead, eyes meeting those of his medics, "Her cheek will sting for a bit, but listen to her giggle, she will be fine."

Nisroc turned to look at the one he knew who struck his fledgling, and behind him he heard the others shift where they stood, and he knew that their grips on their weapons tightened.

"You struck _our _fledgling, you strike us all, and _we _don't take to being struck too well."


	282. Willow

It was the fledgling who found the Gardener, the one who usually greeted her when she came to visit the Garden, with a gentle smile and a fresh peach on hand, she as the one that found him sitting on a stump with his head in his hands, so she hopped over to him carefully just in case he was lost in thought and she didn't want to startle him.

He did look up to meet her gaze when she touched his knee, "Joshua, are you okay?"

"I am fine, little peach thief, just a bit of a headache."

"You should sleep." She stated matter of factly, "Big bear always says to lay down when you get a headache."

"I would," He pat her cheek fondly and heaved himself back to his feet, intending to get back to work, when he stumbled over a step and nearly fell on top of the very fledgling that had tried to help him stay on his feet, "I must get back to work."

She shook her head, helping him sit back down again, "I'm gonna go get help." She pressed down on his legs as though to make her point, "You stay here." And she darted off for the entrance of the guardian before she could be stopped.

He buried his head back in his hands, the Garden was much too bright for him to do anything other than cover his eyes.

Gentle hands took hold of his own, and he looked up expecting it to be fledgling once more, and met the gaze of his old concerned guardian.

"How can I be of help, little chestnut?"

He decided, for the best of both of them, to be straightforward, "A headache. I cannot get it to go away."

"Where does it hurt you?"

The Healer was gentle as he took hold of his head, "To the back? Or to the side?"

"The front and the side."

"Symptoms?"

The Gardener sighed deeply, "The light is too bright. I stumble when I try to walk."

The Healer hummed lightly, pressing both of his hands over his charge's eyes, "When was the last time you slept?"

"I cannot rest." The Healer hummed disapprovingly, rubbing his thumbs over the Gardeners eyes, "Who else will take care of the Garden."

"You are allowed to _rest_." He tugged on his sleeve, "Come, up with you." He helped the Gardener to his feet, winding one of his arms around his shoulders, and he lead him from the Garden and down to the axis, "I will make you a mixture of passionflower and chamomile, and then you will sleep."

There was little he could now that he was in the Healer's hold but agree, and thus he did, "Where are we going?"

"I am taking you to my room," the Healer opened the gate to the villa and stepped inside with his passenger, "Where I may ensure you get the appropriate amount of sleep."

"In your bed?"

He smiled at the thought of it, he hadn't slept in the Healers bed since he was a small fledgling still holding on to the Healers robes as he walked about going about his duties.

"Where else?" Raphael squeezed his shoulder lightly, "I _know _you will sleep there."

He walked them into the Villa, nodding to the Viceroy and the Morningstar, playing a card game with their fledgling, and turned down the hallway towards the back bedrooms. Turning into the Healers, he helped the Gardener sit on the edge of his bed, and lit a soft candle, the light would be dim enough not to cause much pain.

"You," he pointed at his charge, "Remove your sandals and outer robes." Joshua did as he was told, sluggishly, but he accomplished it, and laid down in the bed without being told to. The Healer nodded approvingly, turning to mix up his concoction for his charge, and once he'd mixed it he turned back to hand it over.

Helping the other sit up, he held the cup to his lips and instructed him to drink, and he did so willingly. Humming at the relief he felt almost instantaneously, and the Healer eased him back down.

"Sleep, little willow, I'll watch over you."


	283. Tension

There was tension in the air when the fighting began again, anew, between Heaven's four generals. Tension grew between the four legions in the wake of their generals arguing; Powers standing against Grigori, Principalities against Virtues, and all the others locked themselves away once more, remembering one ending that this fighting among them had taken.

The Market district all but disappeared.

The blacksmiths hid in their forges.

Joshua sealed himself in the Garden.

The Choir returned to the inner sanctum of their Pantheon.

And they all prepared themselves for the second war to come.

There was one that remained, one who didn't turn and hide, a small fledgling whom had grown rather close to them all, and they were all too blind to the pain their fighting was causing their young fledgling friend. She stood in the shadows, watching as Semyaza and Nisroc stood face to face, sword in hand, prepared to strike one another. She watched in silence as the oldest two archangels faced off again, circling one another like a beast would it's prey, their own swords clutched in hand as they lay in wait for the other to throw the first punch. She hid in the shadows as the Healer and Messenger threw spiteful words at one another, another loud argument that the wind could not conceal from outside ears.

They hadn't the clearest idea that there was someone there to witness their squabbling until Nisroc had stepped back from the Grigori, and unintentionally he had stepped on her foot, and she yelped at the pain of it. He was quick in spinning around at her appearance, his sword falling from his hand for the first time in centuries, Semyaza peered around his arm to see what had captured his attention, and his sword hit the grass of the training field with the Powers.

Her eyes were saddened, so full of sadness, and it only highlighted the dark circles that hung under her eyes.

"Akeelah," The Power chose his words very carefully, "How long have you been there?"

"Since the start."

The answer he gained was the answer he feared, and he turned over his shoulder to the Grigori there, Semyaza met his gaze, their argument forgotten at the grieving fledgling, and he nodded at the silent inquiry. He turned, heading off to the others, he could not stop four raging archangels, but he could get the other Captain's attentions for this matter at hand.

Nisroc knelt, and she watched him with a cautiousness that made his heart twist in agony, "May I pick you up?"

It was a silent relief he felt when the fledgling nodded, and he was allowed to hook his fingers under her arms and lift her from the trampled ground underneath, her legs curled around his waist, his arm settled under her bottom, and he turned in time for Semyaza to return with the others.

The mere mention of his friends name had turned Zaveriels attention from the Virtue to the Grigori, and the condition of her being turned the Virtue to him, thus they returned to his side in no matter of time.

Oren looked the fledgling over from where she hung nearly limp in the Power's arms. He felt her temple, her cheeks, turned her chin from side to side to get a better glance at the bags under her eyes, checked her pulse, did all the things a well trained healer would do.

"You're completely exhausted." He came to his diagnoses, "When was the last time you slept?"

"I can't sleep with no stories."

She was a stubborn little thing, they would give her that, and had grown accustomed to the Morningstar reading her stories before bed, thus she now refused to sleep without the nightly stories. A blessing and a curse, and in this instance particularly, it was most certainly a curse. Oren turned to look over his shoulder at the arguing generals, and turned to his fellow Captains, "If they won't take care of their own fledgling, then we shall, until they come to their senses."

"Agreed."

"Of course."

"Gotcha!"

They decided on taking the fledgling to the Infirmary, back in a bit more of a private area, where the workstation for tonic making was closer than anywhere else and set her in the bed.

Oren placed his hands on his hips and looked between the four of them, "Firstly lets get her bathed." He nodded to the Grigori, "I trust you can make a nourishing sleeping tonic?" Semyaza nodded instantly. The Virtue turned to the Principality, "We need new robes for her to be in, I am sure you know where to fetch them?" Zaveriel nodded, his light personality having taken on a surprisingly serious turn. And then he turned to the Power, "She's known you longest out of all of us, perhaps maybe other then Zaves, will you bath her?" Nisroc nodded, having shed from his leathers and armor some time ago, his sword, though retrieved from the grass of the training field like any well trained warrior would have, leaning against the table he stood before, "Yes."

The healer nodded, "Very good, I'll make her up the bed, I know where the softest and warmest blankets are, and the fluffiest pillows."

The Power lifted the fledgling from the bed, and she curled around him silently, like a small octopus, and he walked back towards the far end of the Infirmary, down a torch lit path, to the opening of a spacious cave dwelling. A water fall fell from above, flooding the knee deep pool below it, and he kicked his boots off to prepare himself. Setting the fledgling down, at her own insistence at this part, he turned as she silently undressed herself, and turned back when she tugged on the leg of his trousers. Taking hold of her little hand, they stepped into the pool together, it barely came above his knee, but it circled around her midriff.

She stood under just before him as he undid every delicate braid, and turned her to stand on the rain like waterfall from above, the fledgling looked up at him as he lathered the soap in his hands and ran them through her matted curls until every strand he could see was covered in the white suds, and the brushed the soap back, washing it out of her curls, ringing it from the ends. He handed her the cloth, once again at her insistence to wash herself with, and he turned to wait patiently for her to be done, until she tugged on his trouser leg again, to indicate that she had completed her task.

Nisroc took her hand once more, and they wadded out from under the water fall, to the dry stone before them, where Zaveriel waited with a towel for the both of them, and a change of clothes for each of them.

"I took one of your shirts for her," he handed the Power his tunics and trousers, "I didn't think you'd mind."

"I don't."

He dried himself and changed as the Principality dried the fledgling, helping her into the dry tunic that smell liked the Power Captain, and she raised her arms to be picked up again when he was done, to which he happily obliged and lifted her into his arms.

"Come on, little friend, the others are waiting for us."

True to his word, Oren had covered the bed in soft warm blankets and given her the softest looking pillows he could find, on the side table sit a cup, something akin to a sippy cup, that undoubtedly had the creation of Semyaza in it. Oren ushered her into the bed, tucking the blankets in close around her, as the other two from the washroom claimed chairs on her right side, Semyaza came up behind him with a book in hand, nodding to the cup for her to drink. Once Oren was sure she was tucked in warmly, he handed her the cup, watching patiently for her to stuck the nub in her mouth and begin to drink it down slowly, lazily, from how truly worn their fledgling was, and the healer sat in a chair at her other side, beside the Grigori.

Semyaza smiled at the fledgling when she turned to look at him, "Would you like me to read you a story?"


	284. Coma

The Morningstar held her little hand in his own, staring at her still form in the bed, it made her look so small, the big pillow under her head, surrounded by blankets of off-white texture. Behind him stood his oldest brother, his hand on his shoulder in comfort, whispering over his head with the Healer on the condition that their little fledgling was in.

On her other side was the Captains; all four, seated in chairs in various positions as though to guard her from anyone who may get too close, in her most vulnerable state.

It had been three weeks since the accident, since the pillar on the building they had been working on fell on her, it had been a week since the Messenger had spoken a word, a week since the Morningstar had even breathed in his direction, it had been him who had told her to stand out of the way next to that pillar.

Her curls proofed around the bandages wrapped around her head, her delicate little hand that lay limply in his was pale, after having been washed clean of the blood that had painted her skin red. Her other hand was secured in a molded cast, broken horridly from her trying to stop the pillar from hitting her, it hadn't done much protecting to her small form, and it had taken the entirety of the Powers and half of the Principalities, the Morningstar and the Viceroy, to lift the thick stone pillar for the Healer to pull her free.

Lucifer rubbed a hand down his face, turning to look over his shoulder, his eyes burned as he held back tears. They had whispered, trying to make it so that he wouldn't hear, but he had, he had heard everything.

"You don't know if she'll ever wake up?"

They both looked stricken, and it looked as though it pained the Healer when he nodded his head, confirming his worst fear.

…

Raphael hummed to her, muttering to her under his breath as he changed her bandages, checked on her shattered arm, and readjusted her position to avoid stiffening of the muscles. He knew that it was best to make noise, talk to her, let her know that they were there, to give her a reason to come back, and that was something he had told them all.

So, he hummed, because he knew that she liked it, whenever she slept with him in his room at the villa, she always asked him to hum to her before she fell asleep, and he did so rather happily, anything that made their fledgling happy was something they would do.

Within reason of course.

He hummed as he fluffed the pillow under her head, he hummed as he forced liquids down her throat, he hummed as he changed out the blankets for new ones.

And she remained as still and silent as ever.

…

Nisroc told her all about the day he had, every day when he came to visit, sometimes he brought Sasha and Paul with him, and they told her about their day as well. With him he brought lilies and lilacs, he knew they were her favorite flower, and around her he draped the cloak that she had returned to him for strength that could only be given by presence now.

He told her of the others, how they all asked about her, and waited on bated breath for the moment that news reached them that she had woken again. He told her about the trainees, as she liked to go around riding on his shoulders to watch them bluster and fall, all in due time came the skill they would soon possess, him tickling at her feet when she tugged on his hair as she bent forward to laugh at those who dropped their wooden swords, and Abraxos would smile in fond exasperation as she embarrassed his new squadron.

…

Kokabiel would braid her hair, telling her all about the adventures the Grigori had gone on while she was away, when the bandages around her head were safe to remove for good, and she would braid beads into her hair that had been collected on the Grigori's own travels around the earth, she had taken a particular liking to Africa, and most of her beads came from villages there.

She'd share story after story about their doings, the new projects that Semyaza was working on, the others waiting for news that she had woken up again, how _she _needed her to wake up again.

…

Michael read to her, in that soft voice that projected so much love and protection, from the book of stories he's read to many a fledgling in his time. He'd read to her pages upon pages, knowing somehow that she heard him reading to her, and would only stop when the Healer placed a hand on his shoulder to tell him night had fallen. He would kiss her on the temple, make sure the blankets were tucked around her snugly, and set the book down on the bedside table to return to in the morning.

…

Lucifer took it the worst out of all of them, he never strayed from her side, always sat at her right, holding her little hand in his. She was the only fledgling who had the privilege of hearing the Morningstar sing for them, it was their shared moment, only theirs, but if others heard as he did, he didn't seem to mind. His singing was for the fledgling, and his attention was for the fledgling, he sang any song he knew to her just so he knew that she could hear his voice.

Nearly a month after the accident, and they were beginning to lose hope that she would wake, the Morningstar half asleep at her side, his hand still curled her limp one, when he felt it. It was a slight thing, but it had him wide awake at a moment's notice, jumping into a straightened position, he captured the attention of the Infirmary as a whole at the suddenness of it.

Her hand had moved.

"Raph, _Raphael_!"

The Healer was at his side in a moments call, "What is it?"

"She moved, I swear it, she _moved_!"

He sighed, "Brother I kno—"

Three fingers twitched, once, for them both to see, and he fell silent as they twitched again, and then the whole hand twitched. Her little fingers curled, sluggishly, but they curled against the Morningstar's fingers.

"Is she—?"

"She is trying to wake up.", they both stood, on either side of the fledglings bed, the Healer touched a light hand to her cheek, "Come now, little bear, let me see those beautiful eyes again." Her face scrunched softly, more than they had seen from her in a months' time, and it was a miracle at its finest, "That's it, baby sister, open your eyes for me." Her eyes fluttered softly, "There you go, a little more, just a bit more." And then they opened. The Morningstar choked on a sob, collapsing in the chair next to her bed, watching as she looked around with wide unfocused eyes, they were slow in coming back to normal, and would be for some time.

The Healer smiled down to her when her eyes focused on him, "How are you feeling?"

"H…ur…ts…"

"I can fix that." He kissed her on the nose, and even in this state, it still brought a small smile to her face, "I will be right back for you."

Her eyes slowly turned again, until they found her master, and she tried to slide her hand over for him, but it was harder than she thought it would be and thus only flexed her fingers for him to see. He immediately took her hand again, wiping away tears with his other, and gave her his sole attention.

"L…uci…d…don—"

The Healer returned with a cup for her to drink from, and he softly instructed her to do so, supporting her slightly upwards for her to down the mixture.

"Luci, don't cry."

"I can't help it," he rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand, "I thought I'd never get to see those eyes again."

"Zaves says we're like roaches." He snorted wetly, "Hard to get rid of."


	285. Family

"Big bear!"

She ran up to him as soon as he walked through the gate, and he smiled, laughing at her excitement as he swept her off her feet halfway down the path and held her up above his head.

"Little bear, how I've missed you."

"You're back sooner!"

The Healer chuckled, bringing her down to rest on his arms instead, holding her up against his chest, "My mission was a rather easy one." She giggled excited, hugging her arms around his shoulders as best as she could, "I missed you so much!" over her head he saw the smiling faces of his older brothers, the Messenger was still off working on his own given mission, one in which was simply doing the job he so often neglected to complete. He turned his bright eyes back to the fledgling he held, "Have you been waiting for me here all day?"

"I knew when I saw Oren and them return that you were coming home too," she rattled on happily, "'Cause they would never leave you unless you ordered it, and they would disobey, or unless you were coming back too." The fledgling beamed up at him, "So I waited here all day for you!"

The archangel smiled, brushing his nose over hers, eliciting a bright giggle from the small child, "I missed you too, little bear, so much."

"Really!"

He chuckled, "Indeed," he began the journey up the path once more, "I missed the way you smile when one does this," he kissed her on the nose and she smiled at him in return, "I missed your giggles with one scratches a finger here." He itched a finger over the skin under her left ear, and she giggled brightly, scrunching up to stop him from doing it again, as though she would succeed."

They stepped up the stairs to their villa, "I missed your hugs," she hugged him tighter, "I missed your kisses," she kissed him on the cheek, "And do you know what I missed most of all?"

The Healer smiled when she shook her head, and he cuddled her closer, kissing her on the nose again as he pressed their foreheads together, "I missed my little bear."


	286. Freedom

**AN: The song that inspired this one is 'Stand Up ( from Harriet) by Cynthia Erivo. It's really good and I definitely recommend listening for this chapter, or after, its just really good. **

After being captive so long in the Prisons, the screams having faded long ago from her ears, having become deaf to them, she spent as much time as she could curled into her guardians side, where he could protect her from the horrors around them. The guards did not care who they took down to the room at the end of the hall, so long as they got to play with someone, and the older angel was always ready to offer himself over the abuse of his little friend.

The times when he was unable to would haunt him for some time to come.

Her screams would always echo in his ears.

It was one of those times, where they had taken him, and she could hear his screams from down the hall, and she vowed then that no more of her people would hurt again, never again would they be at their nonexistent mercy, and she tugged experimentally on her captured arm, the chain from the manacle rattling against the stone wall, it strained but she felt the give it gave just the same. Gritting young teeth, she tugged her arm harshly against the manacle, and felt the skin on her wrist and hand rub free against the rusty metal manacle. Blood dripped down her knuckles as she stared at her freed hand, and she turned to face her next challenge; the bars of their cell. She eyed them critically as she came to stand directly before them, running a finger over the edges as though testing their texture.

She looked down to the thin prisoners robe they had been given at their admission, sucking in her belly, she turned to the side and stepped through the bars, a bit of a struggle but she managed to pull herself free. Standing on the outside of her cell, she was frozen in shock, unsure as to what to do now. Her plan had completely escaped her and now she had no clue as to what to do.

"Run."

Young eyes turned up sharply at the voice, meeting those of it's owner, "Zaves?"

The messenger nodded, leaning against the far wall of his own cell, he gave her a hopeful smile, "Run. Don't look back."

"I don't to leave you!"

She crossed to path quickly, little fingers curling around the bars of his cell, and he pushed away from the wall to crawl forward in order to meet her, and he reached a hand out from his cell to cradle her cheek.

"Run, my friend, before they see you." He rubbed his thumb over her cheek, "Go."

"I'll be back."

"No." he shook his head, "Don't ever come back."

"I'm gonna get you out." She nodded firmly, "I'm gonna get you all out."

"Akeelah, please," he begged softly "don't come back."

She shook her head again, stepping away from his hand, "I'll come back to free you."

He watched as she turned and ran, passed cells, watching as other prisoners stepped forward to watch the small fledgling run passed towards the exit.

Akeelah blinked at the sudden brightness from the sun above, holding a little hand over her eyes, she looked up to see it once again and smiled as it's warmth curled around her like it was a blanket. She ran barefoot down the stone stairs of the Prison, leaving bloody foot prints in her wake, a trail to be followed, unknowingly leading from behind her. She stopped at the bottom of the stairs, looking around at those who were allowed to walk about the Axis, those who had not been declared as traitors by the Prince and Healer.

She decided it was best to run through the shadows, her robes would be easily recognized should anyone see her running freely through the massive avenue. She darted behind buildings and hopped between shadows as she made her way down the street towards her destination. The Prince and the Healer spent all of their time in the Throne room, it had been turned into a Headquarters of sorts since Father left, and it was either one of them or their captains that would hold a key to the cells.

Akeelah had promised to come back and she didn't make promises she couldn't keep.

She knew by now that they would have dragged Jeremiah back to their cell and saw that she was missing, that Theo would have dispatched the guards to come find her, and once they got the hounds involved, she would be as good as caught, and she would willingly go back so long as she had the key with her.

The fledglings little feet started aching some steps ago, but she pushed passed the pain, focused on her self-assigned mission, and came to stand at the steps to the mighty Throne room, staring up at the building that had once been the epicenter of such Peace and Love, now looked so different in her eyes.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped up the first step, and then the next, leaving her bloody foot prints behind her as she quickly climbed the granite stairs that lead to the destination that her heart desired. As she drew nearer, she heard voices, she knew the voices of the Healer and Prince rather well, their captains too, her eyes widened at the sound of her master's voice, and at the Messengers joining in, and her breath caught when she heard the soft rumble respond to them all.

Shaking her head, ignoring the voices that sounded from within the Throne room, and due to her feet aching if she were to stand in one place for too long, the fledgling crept forward. Peeking around the edge of the door way, she saw _all four _archangels, the two Captains, and Father conversing the terms of the war being ended, the closest one to her was the Power. He had his back facing her, arms crossed over his chest as he responded to whatever had been asked of him. Her eyes spotted the key even from where she stood so far away from it, it hung on a hook from his belt, resting lightly on his right side.

Taking a deep breath, her feet aching from her scouting, the fledgling stepped as silently as she could into the Throne Room. Her feet left red prints behind her as she did, and she went unseen from the deep conversation that was being had before her, as she approached the Power from behind.

Nisroc started when he felt the slight tug on his belt, arms lifting in surprise, and he turned quickly to the right to see the fledgling jumping back away from him. He looked down to his side to see the purpose behind the tug, and looked back up to spy his key in those little hands, it had been their mistake in forgetting about those unjustly imprisoned when Father had returned with the four Commanders, and they had come to meet them.

They all turned at the commotion; the four archangels, Oren, Father and Aunt, they all turned to spot the young one clutch the key in her hands as tightly as she could and slowly step away from the Power as though waiting for him to jump for her. She stared right back at them, stepping back one step at a time, watching for any sudden movements.

Boots came running up the steps behind them, shouting of guards, and she spun to face them instead. Theo marched forward to take his prisoner back, and was stopped short "Let her be, Theo." His eyes met his Father's and he nodded without protest, motioning for his guards to halt behind him. The fledgling looked between them both unsure as to who she was meant to run from, and Father leaned forward in His throne for His young child, "Little Akeelah, you are free to come and go, there is no place for fear here."

He frowned when the fledgling shook her head, backing up a step again, and turned to bolt with the key in hand. She had made a promise that she intended to keep. They all watched her until she disappeared.

"I think, My sons," He turned to look back at them, noting proudly that His Healer had knelt to examine the bloody footprint that had been left in the fledglings wake, "That you may start there." They each nodded, turning to see the trail that had been left in the fleeing fledglings wake.

The Healer stood from the one he had been examining, "I want to see her feet." He turned to the Prison Warden curiously, "Why would one of your prisons be leaving bloody footprints in their wake?" he crossed his arms, awaiting his answer, "They were given to you for keeping, not for torturing, what has been done under our noses?"

Theo swallowed harshly.

Michael stepped up on the Healer's other side, his captain on his right shoulder, when it became clear that Theo was not going to be answering the question asked of him, "We shall see the state of the prisoners and take it from there, yes?" though he seemed unhappy that his question had went unanswered, the Healer nodded his assent, "Shall we, then?"

He ordered Theo to lead them back to the Prisons, and he did so with a noticeable amount of reluctance, and the Viceroy spared a glance with his captain and a small nod was shared between them, they walked as a caravan down the Axis towards the Prison, stopping short as a group slowly spilled from it's mouth. Limping and hanging from each other, they stared down at the group at the bottom of the steps. Before them stood the fledgling, the key curled tightly in the fingers of her right hand, and the both of them stared at each other in silence. The ones at the bottom of the stairs backed up a step, and the ones at the top took that as their given invitation, slowly ambling down the stone stairs to freedom.

Dirty, ragged, and wounded beyond belief, the prisoners limped and stumbled down the steps, led by the fledgling that had promised to free them and had kept to her word. The adrenaline had worn off from her adventure though, and she tumbled forward, the pain in her feet unbearable now that her mission was complete. She was caught up before she could hit the ground, into strong warm arms, that lifted her higher then Jeremiah could lift her, and she curled her fingers into the emerald robes of the one who had caught her.

There was only one that she know of who wore emerald robes.

Looking up, she met his eyes, and he smiled at her, "Let's get you all to the Infirmary."

…

The Infirmary was packed with prisoners, and the other healers had frozen at the sight of both, them, and their Healer returning to them, and quickly jumped back into their work at his gesturing to. They aided the limping ones to beds, carried ones who were not lucky enough to walk on their own to beds, and guided those who milled forward to beds, everyone from the Prison was escorted to a bed.

A messenger stepped through the mass, avoiding healers trying to accost him away, following after the rather large group containing four archangels, a Power, a Virtue, and his best friend. It was made somewhat more difficult with his friend hanging over his shoulder, Gadreel had gotten the worst of it, and could barely stand on his own, the two of them leaving the same trail of red footprints that most of the prisoners did.

They stopped trying to guide him away when it became apparent that he was not going to be moved from the direction he was heading in, and left him be to his own way. He watched as the Healer set his young friend down on an empty bed and knelt to look at her feet, smiling as he approached, "I told you not to come back."

Heads turned at his voice, but he ignored them, smiling to his friend on the bed.

Akeelah stuck her tongue out at him, "I told you I would free you."

"That you have, little savior is what you are, don't know how you managed to get that key and part of me doesn't want to."

"I took it from him." She pointed a finger to the Power, and the messenger turned to follow, their eyes met for a moment and they both turned away after a short minute.

Raphael let go of her foot at his appearance, leaning to the side to spy the same trail that led behind them, and stood in a quick rush, gesturing for the oldest archangel to help him guide his passenger to the empty bed on the fledglings left, healers rushed forward to see to the sentry as he was laid down with gentle ease. The Healer stopped before his old charge, hand slowly coming to caress his cheek, "Bumblebee?"

Zaveriel smiled at him, his hand coming up to touch the Healer's hand over his cheek, and his long nimble fingers curled around the back of his head to pull him forward. The messenger fell into the Healer's chest with a small sniffle, clutching to the front of his robes for a long minute, his shoulders heaving silently at his muted sobs as the protection that the strong warm arms curling tightly around him offered in his moment of weakness.

He guides him silently to the bed on the fledglings other side, easing him back into the pillows with soft words of assurance, and the messenger pulls himself back together with a strength unseen when he pulls away from the privacy of the Healer's chest.

"You lay here, I'm going to fix you all up," he brushed his hand over the others matted hair, "I'll make it better again." The archangel looked up and gestured for a few of the other healers to come over with sponges and basins of clean water, "We'll start first with a bath and then into some warmer robes."

Zaves nodded as the Healer bent to press his lips to his forehead, despite all the grime that covered it, and stepped away for two healers to step forward and help him from his prisoners robe so that he may be bathed down. He let them do most of the work, just too tired to care at the moment, and turned to watch his friends receiving the same treatment, laughing softly when Akeelah smacked the hands away from trying to undress her from her prisoners robes insisting that she could do it herself and when his old guardian objected to her stepping back down to her feet to do so, and they glared at each other until the fledgling huffed and nodded her assent for them to do what had to be done. Gadreel was much too weak to do anything, having taken the brunt of Theo's _'games'_, and he watched the Prince rather closely as he helped him sit up so that the healers may remove his tunic, and them his trousers, before he stepped back to allow the healer to give him the sponge bath that the younger archangel had called for.

They washed their wounds first; the whip marks on all three of their backs, the runes carved into Gadreel's shoulders, the slashes cut in the messengers lower legs, the small carving of the Morningstar's seal on the fledglings chest. And then refilled their basins to wash away the grime and dried blood, the soot and dried mud, leaving them pink and smooth skinned again. And, refilled for the third time, to take care of their feet.

It was rather painful, the first two layers of skin having been painfully peeled off, and the fledgling screamed a sob when the sponge touched her left sole.

Zaveriel grit his teeth through the pain himself, and leaned over, outstretching his arm for her, "_Akeelah."_ She looked over at him with tears streaming down her face as she tried to curl her feet under her, looking to his hand, and shaking her head, she nearly refused, _"Akeelah."_ He flexed his fingers and slowly she reached out for his hand with one of her own, and their fingers curled together tightly, "Squeeze my fingers when it hurts."

She nodded, sniffling, "Little one." And turned at the other voice, Gadreel was much too numb to the pain at this point, but the shriek the fledgling had let out was horrid enough to pain even the toughest of angels, and he too reached his hand out to her. The fledgling snuffled, reaching for his hand as well, and his large fingers curled around hers tightly.

A hand rubbed down her dark curls, turning her attention from the other on her side, to the one above, and the Morningstar smiled down had her gently, holding up a cup for her to drink, "It's for the pain, white willow and green tea, it'll help." When it looked as though she was going to let go of their hands to take the cup, the Morningstar shook his head, "No, no don't let go, I'll join you." And true to his word, he ducked under Zaves hand and settled beside her in the large Infirmary bed, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, holding the cup of to her mouth, rubbing the nub over her lips, and she looked up at him for a moment before slowly taking the bun into her mouth and taking a test sip. The sweet taste was warm as it went down her throat, and she decided that she liked it so she drank more, because it was sweet and did numb the pain, slowly, but it numbed it, and the archangel at her side nodded to the two healers to return to their cleaning of her feet.

While that was taken care of, Nisroc was the one who handed the cup of similar substance to the messenger next to her, and Zaves looked to his lap as the Power sat next to him on the bed, holding out the cup for him to take, and he did so silently without any chance of a glance.

"I am sorry, my young friend." The Power went silent for a moment, "There is no way to express in words how truly apologetic I am that I sent you to this torment."

"It's not okay." Zaves took a deep breath and finally turned to look up at him, "None of this is okay." He nodded and took a sip of his given drink, "But I understand that the stresses on you were undoubtedly just as great." He smiled at the Power, Nisroc returned it in kind, their friendship may not be as it once was, but they would always remain friends, no matter what, he knew that everyone had their part to play in the war, and Nisroc was just playing his part in the show, as he too had to.

"Can I hug you?"

The messenger thought on it for a moment, and he nodded, letting the Power pull him forward into a gentle embrace, he was grateful when Akeelah let go of his hand, to undoubtedly curl around the cup she drank greedily from, and he was able to clutch at the back of the Power's tunic as he buried himself deep in his embrace "Never let me go there again."

"Never."

While they were being tended to, the Healer turned on the Warden, gesturing the three prisoners he was tending to personally, and then to the ones all around, "You were _never _given _permission _to _torture _them." Michael stood beside him with his arms crossed, "You flayed their feet so they could not run." Being the true Commander of Heaven's armies, he has seen all sorts of techniques, thus he knew what this was about, the skinning of their feet. "They were your prisoners, not your playthings, this does not please me Theo." He turned to survey them all once more, "Not at all." He ran a hand through his thick dark locks, "The damage caused to some of them is insurmountable."

Raphael separated from them to see to his patients feet for himself, sparing a harsh look over his shoulder to the Warden, while all the prisoners were his patients under technicality, these three had come to him themselves.

He took first to the most severe out of the three of them, he bore the most bandages, and would take the most healing and care to get as better as he would after his ordeal that he'd managed to survive through. Large, semi aware eyes, watching him come closer, and he ran his fingers over his lower calf and sat at his feet to examine them closer. There was at least three layers of skin missing, possibly four, and it was an extreme wonder how he had managed to walk all this way under the excruciating pain he was sure that the younger angel must had had to endure in the action.

"It will heal, that is the good news," he leaned over to get a closer look, reaching for a swath of bandages to bund the appendages in, "It will take time, and the raw under skin will have to be washed daily, but you will heal." The part that was not shared, not at this moment in time, was the doubt that he would be able to walk unaided again. The damage was rather extensive, nerves had been stripped and broken, that would be news that would be brought up at a later time.

He turned to the healer that had been tending to him, "Get some warm chamomile for him to drink." Nodding as they rushed off to fetch the warm drink, and he pat the legs under the blanket rather carefully, "You get some rest, you are safe here, I will check in on you sometime later." The Healer sat there a moment longer, watching as the healer returned with the drink that was ordered form, making sure that he took the drink and took a sip of it once, and then another larger sip.

He moved on to the fledgling next to him, despite the pain he was sure that she felt she had her legs tucked up closer to her, no doubt something that was learned while experiencing the horrors that a fledgling should not have had to deal with and witness. She stared up at him with wide eyes as he sat at the end of her bed, patting his dark blue covered lap, undoubtedly for her to put her feet there. She turned to her friend for guidance, Zaveriel nodded, leaning into the Power's side, "He's good 'Keelah. He just want to help."

She still looked unsure, but seemed a bit more reassured with her friends words on the matter, and slowly uncurled herself from her protective ball she'd made. Slowly but surely, two little feet reached out for the archangel, her muscles were timid until he wrapped a large warm hand around her ankle and lifted her foot for him to examine closely, "You are the strongest fledgling I have had the pleasure of meeting." He spared her a look over her foot, "To walk on these feet the way they are for as long as you had, it is quite the feat." She didn't seem to respond to his compliments, and he sighed, their petty war had broken a completely innocent fledgling. So he went back to diagnosing, "The first layer, possibly a bit of the second, primarily to the arches of the feet, leading to the heel." He ran his finger over the ball of her little foot and got no noticeable reaction, "No damage to the ball of the foot, there are some mercies here it seems," he turned to the healer that had been tending to the fledgling, holding his hand out for bandages to bind her feet in.

He wrapped her feet up snuggly, and wiggled her toes a bit, as they stuck out of the swath of bandages curled around her little feet, "Look at these little toes." That did gain him a reaction, a small giggle escaped the hardened fledgling and he peered up to look at her, smiling at the small smile that had overcome the toughened fledglings features. "We will heal those giggles while you're here as well."

Raphael looked once more to the healer that had returned to watch over her patient, "Layliel, would you fill her cup with chamomile," he looked down to the fledgling once more "And some lavender, warmed?" she nodded and went off once more to mix the drink together once more, and he turned his attention back to the fledgling as he pulled the blanket up around her, "And you, you rest, you've done more then enough activity for the day." Layliel returned with the cup, and the fledgling took to it just as she had taken to the other drink she had been given, he spoke to the healer in charge of her, "Make sure she finishes the drink and sleeps, I will be checking in on her in a while, she is under my watch now." Layliel nodded in understanding and acknowledgement.

He moved on to the next bed, this one he knew rather well, "Let me see them." Sitting on the edge of the bed, he only had to tap his lap once for the messenger to set his feet in his lap, Zaves sucked in a quick breath when his fingers curled around his ankle and lifted his foot to examine, the messengers fingers curled tightly into the Power's lavender tunic, "Second layer at the most, no possibilities of the third," he lifted the foot a bit higher, "to the heel and arches, the ball of the foot is untouched, no harm done to the toes."

Raphael held his hand out to the healer assisting in the care with the messenger and he handed over the bandages to the Healer, stepping back as he carefully wrapped the wounded appendages in the bandages, and then he held a finger out to the one he knew as well as the back of his hand, "You," Zaveriel pointed at himself, "Yes, you, you stay in bed."

"I would never get out of bed with you here."

"Precisely," he wagged his finger a bit, "Which is why I intend to keep a close eye on you." He leaned forward, catching the young messenger by the back of the neck and leaned forward to press their foreheads together, "You are safe here, you know this, you're home now and I'm not letting you go." Zaves met his electric blue gaze "Ever?" his old guardian kissed his nose as he had done frequently when he was a small fledgling following him around "Ever." They stared into one another's eyes for a moment longer before pulling back.

"Eran."

The healer attending to the messenger stepped forward at the call of his master.

"Get him some warm chamomile a—"

"And lavender."

He pat the messengers leg, "Yes I know." And turned back to Eran, "And lavender, please."

Eran nodded and stepped away to mix the drink he was sent to get.

The Healer turned to the Power, "I trust you will ensure that he stays in bed."

"With all I have, sir."

"Good." He pat the Power's knee, and pointed a finger at the messenger again, as he returned his look over the edge of the cup Eran had given to him, "You know how I make my rounds better then anyone here, when I come back around to you, you had better still be in bed." He shared a nod with the Power beside him, "And preferably asleep."

Zaves nodded silently as he continued to sip at his drink.

Raphael pat his leg one last time, taking his leave for the moment, and nodded at his older brothers as he stepped passed them to speak with the other healers under his command to see to their findings.

The remaining three archangels had heard enough, and gathered together around the Warden, it was Michael who spoke for them, "Theo, the Council has convened, and it has some questions for you."


	287. Echo

They walked around the training field, between the highest classes, between the official warriors, between the young classes. And by '_they'_ walked, it was the Captain who walked them around, and the fledgling that rode on his back, critiquing the younger classes, and some of the older, when certain things needed critiquing.

They surveyed the younger class with close attention, watching them spare against each other with close eyes, attentive to every maneuver and swing.

The little fledgling pointed over the Power's shoulder to the pair they had come to watch, "You're standing too heavy on your front leg."

Nisroc hummed, but made no inclination to interfere in this critique, he would have pointed it out himself but the fledgling had merely done so before he could.

The youngling in question turned a glare to the fledgling riding piggy back on the Captain Power, "What would you know, _fledgling_."

She huffed and squirmed against the Power's back, clearly with the intent to hop down and show him _exactly _what she meant, but her friend squeezed her thighs lightly and shook his head to decline the intention before it could be acted upon. So instead of enacting her plan, she huffed again, and fell limo against the Power's back instead and her little arms came up to hug loosely around his neck and her chin upon his shoulder.

He turned over his shoulder to speak to the fledgling riding on his back, "You will not _show _him what you would know about it, Baby Power." She huffed again and he squeezed her thighs again until he elicited a near silent giggle from his dearest friend.

Once the Power was sure that his fledgling was still in good spirits, he turned to address the youngling, "There is no need for such anger, though I'm sure she should have let me say so" he spared the fledgling a side glance over his shoulder and shook his head when she smiled up at him, and he shook his head fondly, "You stance is too stiff, you need to loosen it up, you would be so planted at the front that should someone come at you from behind you would not turn fast enough. You should balance on your toes, ready to jump with fluidity. Be as light as the wind itself."

The youngling looked down in shame at the critique, and the Power was quick to kneel and take his cheek in hand to lift his gaze once more, "It is nothing to be ashamed of. You are learning. Even some of our seasoned warriors need reminded sometimes again. We do not expect you all to know such things at the beginning of your training." Nisroc pat his cheek fondly, and waited until the same light began to shine in the young trainees eyes "If you need help, do not be afraid to ask, I would be more then happy to help you. Any of us would be. All you need do is ask one of us." The trainee blushed and nodded, turning back to his sparring partner when the Power stepped away. They watched the pair for a bit longer, noting the immediate try for change in his stance, it was unfamiliar with him, but he was trying as hard as he might.

The two of them moved on after a moment more, stepping back through the partners to watch for foul that needed correcting, and the Power turned to spare the fledgling another side glance.

"You didn't need to call him out in front of his partner."

"I was just telling him what was true."

"We could have pulled him aside during break."

Akeelah huffed again, setting her chin back on his shoulder, "You're ju' mad 'cause I said it before you did."

He chuckled, squeezing her thighs again, this time a bit harder, and she gave a small squeak at the tingly feeling, causing him to tighten his grip when she squirmed in his hold. They continued to walk in good spirits, exchanging soft jokes between each other, eyeing training partners and single angels going through the movements of strokes and strikes.

Instead of speaking out again, she tugged on the Power's hair and pointed at another sparing match that had caught her attention, he nodded and held up a hand to pause the match, and they turned to look at him for his teachings accustomed to his eagle eye after working so long under him command.

"Your grip is too tight, you need to loosen it, the sword is an extension of yourself and not a tool to be used."

"Yea, loosen it!"

The warrior they were standing before smiled at the Power as the fledgling leaned up and echoed him, and the Power shook his head in fond exasperation, sharing the smile with the seasoned warrior. He waved for the warrior to return to his doings, and turned to head on, "Did you just mock me?" the fledgling giggled and leaned forward to kiss his cheek, "Of course not." He chuckled again and shook his head, "Of course not."

"Did you just mock me?"

Nisroc came to a stop, the fledgling giggling behind him, and he tugged her around, "Now I know you're mocking me." She giggled brightly, leaning up in his arms, to kiss him quickly on the lips in an exaggerated way, and he returned the smooch in kind, in the way that close family members do.

"I would never!" she leaned back on his arms to press a little hand to her chest, "I cannot believe you'd say that 'bout me!"

He dug his fingers into both of her sides and she shrieked brightly and began to squirm immediately, "Oh yes you would." He carried her around, continuing his assault for a bit longer, "You little sneak you."


	288. Elegant

When the choosing day came to pass, they all waited on bated breath for a glimpse of the grown charge that had been taken by the archangels, of course, they were there for the choosing too, but most wanted to catch sight of the youngling that was so rarely seen these days.

Four thrones sat erect in the center of the Heart Hall, a smaller throne between the third and fourth, each designed with their occupant in mind.

The crowd clapped respectfully when the oldest stepped before them all, silver armor adorned his chest, leather trousers, and boots knotted perfectly. His bright blue eyes surveyed the crowd around them, a mixture of creatures, Heaven having opened its gates to the other cultures of the world, though it was usually only the Egyptians that took their invitation to heart and joined in on the gathering, Anubis was at the front of the crowd, with Thoth and Osiris, dressed in his ceremonial garb for the special occasion.

Michael nodded before the crowd, sitting in a throne of flame and obsidian stone, leaning back against the rest as he draped his arms down both arm rests. He looked as though he was sitting in a leisure manner, but maintaining his regal appearance despite the comfort, a skill only some possessed. Behind him, came his Legion, standing at ease at his side, hands resting on the hilts of their swords, their captain standing at attention as though waiting for an order to be given.

After him came the Healer, adorned in flowing emerald robes, his staff in hand, Raphael stepped out before the crowd gathered. He pointed a finger of warning at the one that whistled at his appearance, Anubis took the rebuff as though it was some joke, and he whistled again as the third born of Heaven sat in a throne of stone and greenery. He set his staff to lean against the right side of his throne, as he himself leaned rather heavily on the left, on arm holding him up on the arm rest, the other resting across his lap. His legion coming to stand at his shoulder, resting, his captain waiting for an order to be spoken.

Behind the Healer, came the Messenger, in a loose-fitting tunic, brown trousers, and high dark boots. His set his horn to hang on the edge of his throne as he stepped around to sit in the throne of marble and gold, spreading his legs and slouching as he made himself comfortable in his seat, these proceedings could take some time and if he had to sit through them he would be comfortable while doing so.

There was only one left, the one who would bring the grown charge out for them all to see, her original master and guardian.

They all turned to watch as a boot stepped out of the curtain behind them, the Morningstar making his appearance, dark boots coming to his knees, over gray trousers and a loose-fitting ice blue tunic. The fingers of his left hand were curled around the staff of his trident, and his left arm was curled up, multiple breaths were taken in the crowd as his companion stepped out beside him.

The fingers of her left hand were curled delicately over his left arm as he lead her over the platform. They stared at her in awe, adorned in a long flowing toga, white fading into light blue, a silver belt cinching around her waist. Knee high silver sandals peaked out through the slit on the left side of the shirt. Long curls draping down her back, bright starry eyes watching the crowd nervously, the archangel leaned down to whisper in her ear and she nodded, seemingly reassured as he guided her to sit in her throne and he sat in his throne of ice.

Michael leaned to the side, his captain stooping to his level, and something was shared between them that had the captain moving from his post at his archangels side to stand behind the growing youngling.

Once he was stationed, the Viceroy raised his hand for the choosing class to step forward, and they all turned to watch as they did so, shivering with nerves, and stepped before the four archangels that would lead them to their chosen duty.

The choosing was a long and tedious process, and the youngling found herself eventually leaning over on her arm instead, waiting for the process to be complete. At the end of the choosing they celebrated, some danced at the center of the room, others mingled at the sides, and this was her first choosing day that she was allowed to walk among the gathered crowd.

The end of the choosing came after some time, but Michael's raised hand called it to an end at long last, and he turned to respond to something that was said from the Morningstar. The Messenger and Healer had long since started a conversation, and when the young lady peered over her shoulder to spy on the Power standing as sentry behind her she took note of his distraction in the form of Haniel calling something out to him, and with her freedom in sight, she ducked and jetted into the crowd.

There was one standing at the back of the hall, out of the sight of the others, and he smiled at her approach.

"Khonsu."

She threw herself at him, and his arms encircled around her tightly, hugging her close, "Akeelah."

They pulled away from one another and smiled, standing at arm's length, the Egyptian smiled to his companion.

"Can I have this dance?"

The angel smiled, peering over her shoulder for a moment, the captain had noticed her missing and had interrupted the conversation between the two eldest archangels, she turned to smile at the older being and nodded.

"Not here."

She took his hand, their fingers intertwining, and she led him from the Heart Hall into the silence of the night. They walked down the empty Axis, peering up at the stars above them, at the glowing moon that illuminated their passage. She led him to the solitude of the garden, beyond the tree line, into the clearing where the moon shined the brightest and the stars sparkled like diamonds in the sky. They stood in the middle of the clearing, the light of the moon illuminating them in it's soft glow, and they both looked up to gaze upon it and the stars, before returning their gazes to each other.

Stepping apart, Khonsu bowed deeply, holding out his hand, "May I have this dance?" Before him, Akeelah giggled softly and curtsied, "I would be honored." Taking his hand delicately, her fingers curling over his, and his closed around hers only just as he stood up straight. They both stepped closer to the other, the fingers of her free hand curling delicately over his shoulder, and his curling around her lower back.

They were flush together, pressed close, and he let her lead as they twirled around the moonlit clearing. They danced as fluidly as the wind, his hands coming to curl around her waist as he lifted her above him in a twirl, and she spread her arms wide as he spun her around. When he set her to her feet, they stayed in place, his hands curling behind her, chest to chest, staring into each other's eyes, and they swayed in a gentle slow circle.

The only noise in the clearing was their hearts beating, it drowned out everything else in their ears, the crickets and soft whistle of the wind fell silent to their hearing as they stared at one another. He leaned down, to press his forehead to hers, and she tilted her head upwards to meet his gaze once more.

"You look beautiful."

"Thank you."

Silence hung over them for a moment, staring into the other's eyes, and then they leaned closer. Her lips were soft, and his were warm, as they pressed together gently under the stars and pale moonlight. Butterflies fluttered in both of their bellies, as his right hand slowly lifted to cradle the back of her head and hers curled around his shoulders, a passionate moment passing between them both.

A moment for breath, "I have missed you my Star."

"I missed you too my Moon."

Their lips met again, both of his hand cradling her cheeks, when the sound of a sword being pulled from it's sheath pulled them apart. They had been found, by the Captain, who had led the four archangels to their secret meeting place, the oldest archangel held his sword at the Egyptians neck.

"Back away from her and I may spare you."

Akeelah pushed herself in front of the other "Micha, don't—" he spared her a heated glare, "Be silent, Akeelah." She shook her head and stepped forward, knowing he would not strike her with the sword, "Micha _please—"_ He roughly pulled her behind him, casting a heated glare in her direction as he did, and she stumbled into the Morningstar behind him "I said, _be silent_."

There was little for her to do, as a hand curled over her shoulder, and she could only watch as her oldest brother banished Khonsu from their home, cursing him should he ever return, and their eyes met for a brief moment. Tears burned in her eyes as he smiled at her, a sad smile, in parting and she yanked herself free from her old guardian's hold as the Egyptian disappeared from sight, her fingers closing around thin air.

The burning tears spilled over and she stifled a cry, faintly hearing the swoosh as a sword was returned to it's sheath, and a hand barely ghosted over her shoulder before she whirled to face him, them, face them _all_.

"You ruined it!" tears spilled from her eyes as she stood where he had stood only moments ago, "You _ruined _it!"

"He had no right—" the eldest stepped forward as if to take her into his arms, and she shoved him away from her rather harshly, the elders rather surprised at the unexpected aggression.

"You—You—You _RUINED _it!"

"I did what must have been done." Michael's voice held no remorse for his doings, and he gestured for her to follow, "You are not to see him again."

There was a sharp intake of breath from the others when the slap echoed through the clearing, eyes wide as the oldest archangel slowly raised his hand to touch his cheek, all eyes captured by the youngling that had dared strike the oldest among them. Michael knew he should be furious, as he pressed a few fingers to his stinging cheek, but his astonishment at the action won out on that emotion as he stared at her in surprise.

"I'm—I'm not a fledgling anymore." Tears continued to spill from her eyes, and she rubbed then away angrily with the back of her hands, "I'm allowed—allowed to _kiss _people!" she threw her hands up in aggravation and distress, "You _ruined _it!"

She pushed passed him, through the ones that had gathered behind him, and ran from the garden. They watched her as she disappeared into the darkness of the trees. They all turned to follow her, wherever she may go, but they were stopped by the Grigori that had accompanied them.

Kokabiel scoffed at them in disapproval, "_Men_." She shook her head, "She is not a fledgling any longer, she is allowed to be with others, allowed to _love_." She poked each archangel in the chest, the oldest especially so, "You need to learn when to _let go_."

"She is too young!" even the Morningstar was on the side of his oldest brother, eyes staring at the darkened tree line that his young charge had disappeared into, "She is barely of age."

The female Grigori nodded in agreement, but there was something else to her words as she spoke them, "She is still young, yes, but she is no longer a fledgling. She is a warrior in training and can take care of herself. A young lady now, you need to let her spread her own wings, it's when she falls that you be there to pick her up." She gave a soft sigh, a smile lighting her features, "I think it's rather romantically poetic."

The Healer turned to her in curiosity "How so?"

Kokabiel smiled up at him, "She is the angel of stars, creates them from her fingertips, and he is the Egyptian god of the moon." There was a soft sigh as she tilted her head, "They are perfect for each other, if you ask me."

"It is hard to imagine her as anything other then the small fledgling that we had raised."

She squeezed the oldest archangels upper arm lightly, "But you must, or you run the risk of driving her away, she is no longer a fledgling."


	289. Flounder

"Don't let go!"

They huffed, straining to hold on to the edge of the cliff face, gritting their teeth _"Why would I let go!" _and they readjusted their grip on the sharp stone ledge, feeling the sharp stone biting into the flesh of their fingers.

"I mean it!"

"Samael," his companion still had their teeth gritted, and their muscles strained, "I _hate _you", he grumbled and she gave a muttered curse as she felt her fingers slip and the skin get rubbed away, grating against the stone surface as though against a piece of sandpaper, "But I'm not going to let you fall."

"Akeelah, I didn't know you cared that much."

She glared at him from over her shoulder, "Trust me, I don't." and turned quickly back to the task of concentrating on not losing her grip on the shear drop underneath them both, they were built much more durable then the humans, when fully grown, but they wouldn't want to test the theory "But Nisroc cares for you." She tried to pull them up and gave a groan at the exertion, and they dropped just a bit more dangerously over the edge "And I'm not going to hurt him by letting you go."

They had been separated from their squad, and thus the mentors that came down with them, and though their enemies had been defeated though a move that would have gotten them scolded had their mentor been there to witness it, the reason they now dangled over the edge of a shear drop below.

It had been one of the only times they had truly worked together without determent, as Samael drew the freshly blooded vampires after him and jumped over the edge of the cliff, the enemy following him, and Akeelah jumped after him. Her fingers dug sharply into the stone surface of the mountain edge, as she collided with the surface of the mountain side a huff of air was forced from her, and he had only just made it to grab onto her ankles and hang on for dear life.

The female warrior in training groaned in prolonged pain as the warm redness of blood dripped down her wrists, slicking her fingers against the edge of the stone. She bit her lip as her fingers began to slip, her faltering against her own grip that kept them from falling to what would surely be their deaths.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm bleeding." There was a hint of fear in her tone and he picked up on it immediately, "Why are you frightened?" she huffed, adjusting her grip in an attempt to reestablish it, "I'm slipping."

Samael sucked in a breath of fear of his own, tightening his grip on her ankles, and looked up when he felt her starting to struggle in maintaining her grip.

And then they slipped completely.

They both screamed as they began to fall, the females hands still reaching for the edge, both of them screaming as they fell away from the cliff side.

The two of them yelped and groaned when they were slammed into the side of the mountain face again, looking up at the large hands that had reached over the edge of the cliff from above and the fingers that curled tightly around the star makers wrists. They both looked up to meet the bright blue eyes of their mentor, and breathed a sigh of relief, Akeelah curled her fingers around the Power's, leaving bloody handprints around his wrists and he seemingly ignored them for a moment. Now was not the time.

"What are you two doing here?"

"Can we not do this now?"

"Just pull us up, man!"

He nodded, "Alright." With the ease of a seasoned warrior, the strength that comes with the rigorous training that Powers went through, he lifted them up from their precarious position, another Power stepped to his side, kneeling in the same manner and took hold of the other trainees wrists as his captain lifted the girl back to her feet that he too pulled the other up to his.

Once they were securely on the hard ground, the captain returned to his previous question, as he turned his trainees hands over to examine them closely.

"What happened that you ended up over there?" Nisroc nodded to the medic of his legion, Puriel, to exchange his trainee for the other in order to examine the females hands, and he rests his hands-on Samael's shoulders, "What happened?"

"We jumped."

His eyebrows met his hairline, "You two _jumped_?"

Samael grimaced, nodding at the flabbergasted gaze of his mentor, knowing that their was going to be no pleasure in the knowledge that they had willingly jumped over the edge.

"Hey, it may have not of been the most thought out plan," he held his hands up hopefully, "But, it worked, isn't that what matters?"

The look he got in return to his attempt clearly made it apparent that their mentor did not agree with that thought process. Nisroc glanced over at his medic, as he bound his mentees hands in bandages, and them back to the boy before him.

"No, not at all, were you two so desperately out of sorts that you thought it best to jump over the edge of a mountain?" he squeezed his shoulders, "What do you think would have happened had we not found you in time?"

"It worked man!" Akeelah grinned over at him, "I saw my life flash before my eyes, and it was amazing!"

"You two are going to give me a heart attack." Nisroc rolled his eyes and stepped away, motioning over his shoulder for them to follow, and they shared a smile as they did, "I swear, one of these days. This is the reason I have grays."

"You really do."

He glared playfully over his shoulder, "I do _not_."

"You said it!"

"We just agreed!"


	290. Frighten

He knew he had gone too far in his attempt at scaring the little fledgling, a competition that had been going on between them for some time now, when her eyes widened wider then he'd ever seen them widen before, her breath catch short in her chest, and the plain fear shine deep within those normally so bright eyes.

The scream the fledgling let out was one that rang in his ears.

When tears started to form in her eyes he knew that he had gone too far, and he rushed forward to attempt and stop the tears before they overflowed, lest his older brothers kill him for it, Michael had warned him against having this unnecessary competition with the fledging, to just all her the title of winner and move on from there.

But his pride got the better of him and he ignored the warning.

But the fledgling backed away from him when he got too close and he felt his heart sink into the pit of his stomach at her flinching away from him, and then he knew that he was a goner when the door to their villa opened and another walked in.

She turned away from him and ran for the other one, and when he looked up to see who it was, he knew his desire to be swallowed by the stone he stood on in that very moment had never been harder.

Lucifer tucked his book into his belt and bent to lift his fledgling up into his arms, she curled around him as tightly as she could, crying into his neck.

"Hey hey hey," he rubbed her back soothingly, "What's wrong?"

She shook her head, hiding in his shoulder, fingers clutching at his top as tight as her little fingers could muster. She cried into his shoulder harshly, pointing a finger at the Messenger behind her, "Scary!"

The Morningstar leveled a harsh stare on his younger brother, curling his fledgling closer to him, and stepped forward with a dangerous step.

"We _told _you that this nonsense would come to harm someone."

"It was just a game!"

The older archangel hushed his distraught fledgling and turned to gaze at his brother in question, nodding to the fledgling that cried into his shoulder so sorrowfully.

"Is this the type of game you want to play?" his older brother made him feel ashamed of his course of action, and he looked down to his feet, "No. It's not."

Lucifer nodded, shushing his little fledgling softly, rubbing her back once more, and turned to look at his little brother, "Go to your room."

"You can't ju—"

"Do you want me to repeat myself?"

The Messenger's eyes widened, and he turned to run for his room, leaving behind the soft whispers of assurance to the fledgling he had terrified.

Nothing was as frightening as his older brothers being angry at you.


	291. Runaway

"You."

The squad stood at attention at their mentors sudden appearance, him noticing the immediate empty bunk, and pointed a finger at the one he had come seeking. Sasha pointed a finger at himself, looking about to see if anyone else was wondering if they too were being called on, when he turned back to the Power, the elder nodded at him.

"Yes, you." He wagged his finger, indicating for him to follow, and turned to walk off with the sure knowledge that the other would follow him. Sasha hurried to keep up with his quick pace, leading them to the Power's office, and Nisroc held the door open for him to enter and waited for him to duck under his arm into the room before entering himself and closing the door behind him.

"Sit."

Sasha sat in one of the chairs on the opposing side of the great desk, watching his old guardian as he walked around to sit in the leather chair behind the desk, their eyes meeting in silence. The younger angel squirmed lightly, averting his gaze for a moment, and swallowed deeply at the look in the elder's eyes.

"You found out, didn't you?"

Nisroc hummed, leaning back in his chair to cross his arms over his chest, "What I want to know is how long _you _knew?"

The younger angel shrugged, "Since the beginning, really." He didn't seem phased by the Power's surprise "I mean, we're best friends, we have no secrets between us." He examined his nails for a moment and looked back up to his mentor and old guardian as if this conversation they were having was no less then a simple talk of the current weather conditions.

Nisroc quickly recovered from the shock of the knowledge his charge had known of this affair for the entire duration, him and Akeelah told each other everything and there was no doubt that he would know of this secret, even if the elders didn't.

"How does he treat her?"

He had nothing against the Egyptians, any previous feud between them had long since been forgotten, but this situation was rather different in the case that it involved a young lady he was quite fond of, and would do everything in his power to tear down anyone who sought to harm her, physically or emotionally.

"Like she's a goddess. Honestly, he's so star struck," Sashael grinned to himself, "Pun intended." And moved on from his well placed pun "They're really in love with each other."

"How long have they been together?"

Sasha tilted his head, "Four months?"

His eyes widened and he leaned forward, "_Four months?"_

"They've been keeping it on the downlow."

Nisroc was still barely getting over his shock of that particular revelation "Who all knows?"

"Well, me, obviously. Paul knows. Anubis knows, he introduced them, so he knows too. Kokabiel knows. I think Semyaza knows. Zaves knows too, for obvious reasons, the other Egyptians know too."

"How can so many know and yet we not hear word of it?"

Sasha raised an eyebrow "There is so _much _you guys don't know about."

Nisroc hummed, raising his eyebrow this time, "Is there now?" he leaned forward to lean against his desk, "What exactly is it that I don't know, Sashael?"

…

The following morning, the Commander waited patiently for his Captain's squad to join them, eyes keen for one in particular, and he frowned when they all fell into place and there was one that was noticeably missing. He pulled his captain away at first chance, nodding to the squadron that was missing one trainee, "Where is she?"

Nisroc could only shrug, wishing he had something more sufficient he could provide in response, "I couldn't tell you. She hasn't been in my barrack since the Choosing Day ceremony and we had found them in the Garden."

Michael hummed, nodding as he turned his attention to the trainees before them, "Mind the training today, Nisroc, I must discuss something with my brother."

The Power nodded "Of course, sir."

…

The healer scurried off when the Healer waved him away at the entrance of his older brother into his Infirmary, it was not often Michael came in, not when it didn't involve someone he cared deeply for, he rather avoid the place with every fiber of his being.

"Brother?"

Raphael nodded in acknowledgement to the call.

The elder stopped before him, "Have you seen your Egyptian Hound lately?"

"Anubis?" he shook his head "Not recently. Why, has he done something?"

Michael hummed, "Done something indeed." He crossed his arms loosely over his chest "Akeelah has not been seen since Choosing Day last." He nodded once in assurance to himself "I feel as though your mutt may know where she may be."

"I can call him up here. He knows not to ignore my call."

His older brother shook his head, "No, I think we should pay him a visit this time."

…

Anubis seemed shifty from the moment the two archangels entered his temple, refusing to meet them at the entrance, forcing them to enter the temple and come to stand before his throne. He refused to meet their eyes, looking anywhere he may but at their appearance, and refused to answer any question that they may ask of him.

When it became evident that he was not going to answer any of his questions willingly, he turned to his younger brother, the only one it seemed that had managed to tame the untamable death deity.

Raphael nodded and leaned forward on his staff "Anubis." The Egyptian begrudgingly turned to look at him, taking on an appearance akin to a puppy having been found doing something they know they shouldn't be doing, his eyes slowly meeting those of his archangel guardian "Do you know where Akeelah is?" the jackal deity bit his lip and gave a slight nod "Show us where she is." It wasn't a question and shouldn't have been mistaken as one.

Slowly, he lifted himself from his throne, stepping down towards them sheepishly silent, gesturing for them to follow as he would lead them to where their destination may be, and follow they did.

He led them to another temple.

…

"Khonsu!"

The Egyptian turned at the call of his name, the guards in his temple noting the hope that overcame his features, as he turned from observing his moon phases chart, and his eyes widened at the entrance of the angel. He rushed down the stairs that led to where he stood to meet her halfway, hugging her close and twirling her around as they met, the moon deity set her on her feet and pressed their foreheads together again.

"You're here?" he kissed her nose lightly, making her eyes sparkle with a smile, "I thought I'd never see you again."

"My brothers can say what they want." She tucked herself under his chin, "But _no one _forbids me from doing anything."

He smiled, wrapping his arms around her lower waist and rested his chin on her long curls, they swayed from side to side.

"I don't want you to get into trouble just for my sake."

"You are the moon," her arms tightened around him "And I am the stars." She cuddled deeper into his chest "We exist together."

"I do not want to think of a space that you do not shine with me."

They swayed together in silence, enjoying each other's presence, wrapped up in each other's arms. Everything else around them fell away, it was just the two of them, in their own little world. There was no pain, no heartbreak, no denial, just the two of them and the deep love that they shared. The guards shifted, blocking someone at the entrance, but they paid them no mind as they swayed around together in silence.

Michael watched from behind the spears that the guards held, Anubis managed to get through, his allowance being that he was a fellow Egyptian god, as the two of them swayed back and forth in their companionable silence. He observed the way he held her, so gentle, so caring, so protective. The way his eyes shined when he gazed down to her.

He watched as she looked up at him, her eyes shining in a way he had never seen before, brushing her nose against the Egyptians, the way she smiled when he leaned down to peck her nose.

"Akeelah."

The archangel watched her stiffen at her name being called, but she refused to turn and face him, "You can't banish him here Michael. This is his home. His own land."

"I was wrong, little one."

That had her turning around, still wrapped in his arms, Khonsu smiled when she pressed back against his chest, "You were wrong."

There was no question in her statement, and there was never any intention of there being one, she thought all along that he was in the wrong.

"I can see how much he cares for you."

She nodded, as if to indicate he should hurry and make his point."

"If being with Khonsu makes you happy, that is all that matters to me, I care that you are loved, and you are happy."

Akeelah tapped the Egyptian's hands, and he let her go immediately, the young lady stepped forward. She waved her hand and the guards moved aside to allow them entrance. Raphael thanked them softly, stepping over to speak with Anubis on the matter of knowing their missing charge had runaway to the ancient city, and Michael stepped forward to meet her.

"Are you saying...?"

"You can be with him, so long as you are happy, and you don't miss training, you have my blessing."

She smiled "Thank you, Micha." And leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek.

The smile he received from his blessing of their union shined just as bright as the stars. Akeelah turned, running back to the moon god, throwing herself in his arms, and they laughed joyfully, twirling around in their elation.

He couldn't help himself when he cleared his throat when their lips met though.

Baby steps.


	292. Pranks

**AN: Happy Belated Birthday Casaliamaeryth! I'm sorry it's late! I just started a second job and am pooped! I hope you enjoy it!**

They peered out from around the corner they hid behind, rather stealthily if you asked them, the archangel looking down when he felt the little fingers curl into his thigh as a small head of curls peered around his leg to gaze down the hall with him, and he smiled.

"I think the coast is clear."

His companion nodded in agreement, "It's clear Gabe."

They ran around the corner, running down the hall for the office, Gabriel curled his fingers gingerly around the door handle and turned it slowly until the click indicated that the locking mechanism had pulled from the hatch it locked onto. The office was empty of bodies, until they walked in, crossing over the threshold rather quickly to peer out the window behind the desk. It was a high window, and he had to lift his partner in crime up for her to peer out the window with him, four sets of eyes settling on their target. He was thoroughly distracted, sparring with his captain, it being the day designated that the Power's trained and with them trained their commander.

The Messenger set her down in his brothers large leather chair behind his desk, "You move stuff around. Make it all disorganized."

She nodded firmly, leaning forward to mess about the desk, as any soldier would, Michael was extremely organized and tidy. He kept his office clear of clutter, maintained his desk with a special organizational plan, and kept his room at the villa spotless.

Akeelah smiled in joy as she moved the things about, it wasn't often that she got to play tricks against her biggest brother, he had to be in the right mood for them, or he would come find you and give quite the scolding, even to fledglings. There was no telling what mood he would be in when he came to find this, but it was fun, and Gabe was here so if all else failed she could melt his resolve by crying and blame it all on the Messenger, it worked every time. Michael would apologize for being so rough and take her into his arms, every single time, and then go find the Messenger to give him a rather firm tongue lashing for his trickery.

Akeelah grabbed a stack of papers and threw them over her head, laughing lightly, the sound of bells ringing, as they fluttered all around her.

Her task completed, she sat back in the chair to watch as her companion in crime moved things about that were too big for her to manage, and she hummed lightly as she leaned forward for a stray piece of parchment, folding the corners and edges together in a creation of her own.

Gabriel peered over his shoulder, not seeing the paper she had been folding, "Check outside again."

She nodded, setting her paper crane on the desk, hopped from the chair to push it over to the window, and climbed up to peer out.

Michael was gone, and the Power's were reaching for their swords, as was the weapon of choice for this training match.

The fledgling turned quickly, braids whipping through the air, "He's gone!"

"He's gone?"

Gabriel rushed for the door, peering down the hall in the direction that his older brother would come from his way from the training field below, he turned to grab his brothers sword and gestured for the fledgling to come.

"Let's make our escape now before he catches us!"

She nodded, carefully hopping down from the chair she stood on, and ran across the office to his side, taking hold of his trouser leg, and they bolted down the hall together in the opposite direction of the training field.

Lady Luck allowed them to turn the corner just as the eldest archangel came into view down the hall, making his way to his office at a steady pace to retrieve his sword, and immediately noticed the way the door stood ajar. He knew he had closed it when he left for the training field earlier that morning. He slowed his pace, standing outside his office, and gingerly pushed the door open with his left hand.

Frowning at the state of his office, knowing that it had not been this messy when he had left it, he stepped in to peer around the space more thoroughly. He took note of the objects moved out of place, the mess that had become his desk, objects placed at random, the parchments of the newest recruits medical files flung about.

And there, sitting peacefully among the utter chaos, was a small paper crane.

He stepped around the pages carefully, Raphael would have a fit if he came to him requesting him to re-examine the recruits due to the pages being destroyed carelessly, and gingerly lifted the crane with two fingers. He set it in his palm, tilting it this way and that, humming under his breath at the craftmanship of the little creation.

"Sir?" he turned at the call, peering over his shoulder, nodding his grant for entrance once, before turning back to the crane he held "You hadn't returned. I grew worried…..Is that a paper crane?"

Nisroc came to stand at his side, and glanced up at him for his reply, and the oldest archangel nodded in affirmation, "Indeed." He looked up to his captain "Why do you ask?"

"Well, sir, I have one that looks just like that."

Michael tilted his head to the side only slightly, "You do?"

The Power nodded, reaching into the breast of his leather vest, and pulled out a paper crane folded in the exact same fashion that the one the archangel held was. It was slightly bent a bit, crumbled only a tad, but the resemblance was present.

"Where did you get it?" the archangel turned completely to stand before his soldier, his fingers folding delicately over the little paper creation he held in his palm, and the Power looked back up from his own keepsake, "Akeelah made it for me. She had joined me while I was going through the records for the training squadron I had taken after the last Choosing Day. You know how she likes to draw, so I had handed her a blank page, and she handed this back to me." He shrugged, "I suppose she has picked up another craft to preoccupy herself with."

Michael hummed, a slight smile crossing his features, "And you carry it with you?"

"I had promised to keep it with me always." His Power smiled at him "I am an angel of my word."

He nodded in amusement, his captain was smitten with the fledgling, just as much as he was with his two charges, and it never ceased to amuse him at what they could get his mightiest warrior to do with a simple request and an innocent smile.

"Nisroc."

The Power stood at attention, swiftly tucking the crane away and straightening, "Sir."

"You are to take over training today." He looked down to the paper crane and curled it away, "I have some things to attend to for the rest of the afternoon."

Nisroc raised an eyebrow, but nodded to the command "Yes, sir."

…

He went for the little fledgling first. If he could get answers from anyone, especially if there was more then one person involved, and it seemed as though there very well was as the fledgling would not have been able to take his sword alone, he would get those answers from the fledgling rather easily. If she could not provide the location of his sword, then he would gather the name of the one that did, and then perhaps a bit more just to make her laugh a bit.

The archangel found her in the Garden, where she spent most of her time while they were busy leading their flocks during the daytime hours, sitting quietly under a willow tree. With practiced ease, he crept up behind her in practiced silence, coming to listen to her humming to herself, and loom over her to watch as she folded another piece of parchment in similar fashion that she had folded the one he carried with him.

He knelt behind her, holding his arm out around her, palm up to display the crane he held. She started at the sudden appearance of his arm and stared at the crane that lay innocently in his palm, "It is quite beautiful, little one."

She turned partially around, little fingers still curled around her semi created creation, her eyes wide in surprise "Micha!" her eyes stared into his and he got the vague feeling that she was trying to determine his mood, and she was, her safety and personal happy attitude depended on the one that came with his presence and apparent knowledge of their doings, and she needed to know whether or not she should start crying or not.

Worked every time.

But he looked away, his face a stony mask, and she was unable to decipher the mystery of what his mood could be when he did as he looked back down to the crane he held.

"Where did you learn to make them?"

She licked her lips nervously, slowly turning around to face him, tucking her legs under her on the soft grass "Joshua showed me."

Michael hummed, outside of them, and Nisroc, and Zaveriel, she spent the most time with Joshua. He was not her minder, but he played the part during the day when she joined him in the garden, there were many tricks he had taught their fledgling that they had yet to figure out. Joshua was not one of many words, and he held plenty of secrets; his own and others, and he knew more then some would think of him.

"You will never guess where I found this one."

His gaze returned upwards, an eyebrow cocked upwards as he peered at her, his expression hard and stony. Her eyes widened at the look, the half-completed crane falling from her hands, and that little lower lip began to wobble. He rolled his eyes as it did, the façade cracking just a bit as he set the crane down and reached for her, he knew that she cried to get out of scolding's. He was not a fool. He knew that she played on his emotions, he knew that she knew he hated seeing her cry, he would readily admit that the little fledgling had him wrapped around her finger.

There was no time for tears to fall as she was snatched up, a yelp of surprise escaping her as she was pulled from her spot, held up above the archangels head.

"I know of only one who makes these delicate little creations, and I found this one, when coming in search of my sword, only to find it was missing." She stared down at him, and his hard façade fell away as he smiled up at her playfully, squeezing her middle lightly to elicit bell like giggles from her, "So I will ask you once, _only_ once, where is my sword?"

The fledgling giggled still and shrugged, he smiled up at her even more, winking at her "You have no idea how much I was hoping you'd do that." It gave him an excuse, not that he really needed to have one, to pull her close as he fell backwards, crossing his arms around her back and dig his fingers back into her sides, as he turned them over so that he may be above, and she be below.

She arched her back, shrieking brightly at the fingers that dug rather cruelly into her sides, little fingers scrabbling for his, curling around them to try and pull them away. They did little to inhibit his attack, merely a minor inconvenience that he worked with despite it's attempts to stop him, fully grown angel struggled to stand against the oldest archangel so there was no breath of a hope that a fledgling would.

While he was paying attention anyway.

That one time she had managed to get the up on him would forever be remembered in everyone's minds.

"Mihihihicha!"

He smiled down to the wriggling fledgling, "Are you going to tell me what I want to hear?"

"Mihihihicha! Stohohohop!"

"Pity," he shook his head in mock disappointment, his fingers curling around hers and pulled her hands away from her sides, "I was hoping you wouldn't force me to resort to such measures." At the moment his fingers locked around hers, she knew what he was about to do, and shook her head adamantly for him not to do it, "No! No Mihihicha!"

He smiled to her, "But I must," he bent over to her left side, "If you won't tell me what I want to hear." There had been a time that she had thought that her little robe would protect her from such mean actions, and it was a notion that he had quickly dispelled, in the same manner, as he buried his face into her side. The fledgling screamed brightly, laughter exploding from her in bright waves, when he nibbled on a spot he knew to be particularly special. Her fingers spread in his grip, the muscles in her arms stiffening, he felt them, as he continued his rather cruel attack on her left side. The archangel let go of her fingers, unwinding his arms from under her, and in that brief moment of freedom her hands curled around his head, both tugging at his hair and pushing at him in an attempt to dislodge him. But he caught her hands once more rather easily, lifting them up above her head, and he lifted himself to look into her eyes, so bright and full of happy laughter, he couldn't help but laugh a soft deep rumble of his own as he leaned forward to kiss her on the forehead.

"Will you tell me?"

She giggled lightly, at the residual tingles in her side, and shook her head.

He chuckled softly again, these days had become rare between them since the last Choosing Day, regrettably so.

"Well, perhaps your lips may loosen soon."

The archangel leaned over, burying his face into her left underarm, her scream echoed in his ear for a moment and he chuckled into the smooth skin when he felt her feeble attempts to pull her hands free from his grip. It didn't take long for her to give her partner in crime away. It was a man eat man world out there, and in this case, there was a big brother munching on her, and she quickly gave him away for her own salvation.

He pulled away a moment after the name left her lips, pressing their foreheads together, her little chest heaving under him.

"I should have known that Gabriel was behind this." He chuckled softly, "And that he would easily get you to join him."

When he kissed her nose and pulled away only to lean over to her right side, her eyes widened and she leaned as far away from him as she could manage, "No! No! Micha I told you! You said you stop if I said!"

He wink at her playfully, "No I didn't."

…

"Hello, baby brother."

Gabriel's golden eyes widened at his voice, he dropped the parchments he'd been holding and spun around to meet the gaze of his older brother, standing in the doorway of his office.

Arms crossed and leaning against the doorframe, Michael tilted his head, "A little birdie told me you have something of mine?"

The Messenger shook his head quickly, he knew rather well how terribly brutal his older brother could be when it came to delivering comeuppance for pranks, which is why he rarely set out against him, and he looked for a way out immediately. His eyes lingered on his windows, he pondered the consequences of him jumping from them, and he turned back around again at the smooth chuckled that echoed in his silent office.

"Make me chase you down, I _dare _you." He rolled his shoulders and stood up a bit straighter, from over his shoulder, in the plane that all angels kept their wings, Gabriel could see his brothers mighty wings ruffle at the anticipation. He was the fastest flier in Heaven, but Michael was stronger then him, he'd use his grace to slow him down. He knows. It's happened. "We haven't done that in _ages_." He winked at the youngest archangel "I've always liked the chase. How many times have you succeeded in evading me?"

Gabriel took a step back, "Never." He stared at his brother was apt attention, a deer in the sight of its predator, "Because you cheat."

"And you don't?"

Michael pushed himself away from the doorframe and stepped into the office, closing the door behind him in one fluid motion, striding into the Messenger's office with purpose, "Tell me where my sword is."

He hummed when the Messenger shook his head stubbornly, bending, he cleared the oak desk with a single sweep of his arm, and pushed the youngest archangel over the edge to lay over the top. He leaned over him, thoroughly keeping his beloved baby brother stuck under him until he was through, and he wouldn't be nearly as merciful as he had been with the fledgling.

"I will force your confession then." Gabriel gulped, squirming around when his brother eyed his top carefully, "If I remember correctly, you were always rather sensitive," fingers found their desired destination, "Right _here_." And they dug in with all the harshness an older brother, as many times over as Michael was, could muster.


	293. Done

He was tired of it, done with taking the brunt of the consequences to the going-ons that were kept between the three of them, despite that it was him who usually fell into the trap of opening that can of proverbial can of worms, it still wasn't fair to him that his other two friends got into most of the trouble and he was the one who took the fall for their shenanigans. They never dealt with the Power's consequences, not that they caused him any pain, but he was becoming irritated that he was the only one gaining comeuppance for these things, though he himself had contributed to the shenanigans he didn't think it was fair that he was the only one who faced the consequences of it.

So, he devised his plan to ask his old guardian and two best friends to join him in the Garden for their next Day of Rest, and the three of them had quickly agreed. They had not spent that sort of time, just the four of them, since before they had gone through their own Choosing Day, and the Power was more then easy to convince to come with him when he brought up his friends coming with him as well.

Nisroc had planned on straightening his office that day, but the aspect at getting to spend time with his three favorite mentees outweighed that particular plan, besides, who honestly liked cleaning out one's office.

Sasha waited patiently for them all to arrive, arms crossed, starring thoughtfully at the entrance to the clearing that they had always met in when they had been young. The three of them came in together, talking amiably between each other, not taking note of the others serious expression until they came to stand with him, the Power looked concerned at the expression "Is everything alright, Sasha?"

He nodded, gesturing for them all to sit, Paul and Akeelah did so silently, and Nisroc eyed him with a certain amount of scrutiny as he slowly lowered himself to sit as well. The captain huffed when hands curled over his shoulders and pushed him to sit rather forcibly, he looked up when the young angel leaned over him, hands still pressed into his shoulders.

"I'm done."

Paul and Akeelah exchanged a look between each other and Nisroc gave a confused glance up at his other charge, "Done with what, Sasha?"

"I'm done taking the fall!" he leaned further over the Power to point at his two friends, "I'm done taking the fall for _your _shenanigans! I get stuck taking the consequences _every single time_ while you guys are safe and sound where ever you are!" he swiped his hand threw the air and shook his head. "But no more! I'm _done_! You _hear _me? Done!"

"Sasha, what do you mean by that?" Nisroc looked up at him with confusion, "That it is their turn?"

"Exactly that!" Sasha squeezed his left shoulder as he leaned over him, causing the Power to duck under him, and he pointed another finger at his two friends, "It's _your_ turn!"

Nisroc huffed in irritation, reaching back to grab his older charge by the tunic, and tugged him around to sit next to him instead of looming over his head. Sasha let himself be pulled down to sit at the Power's side, glaring at his friends all the while, "What are you talking about, Sashael?" Sasha withheld a flinch, he was only called by his true name when the situation was a serious one, and Nisroc's tone gave away to the irritation he felt at the moment with the lack of answers to his declaration.

"I mean that I'm _done _taking the _fall _for the trouble they get into. _Every single time!_"

The Power turned to look at the other two in confusion "What is he talking about, you two?"

Akeelah and Paul exchanged another glance, as though communicating with each other in a mere glance, and a nod was shared between them after the longest moment of the Power's life.

They weren't scared of him.

"Okay, Sasha," they nodded together, "you're right. We'll take the fall this time."

Nisroc tilted his head at the sigh of relief that was gained from the one at his side, Akeelah elbowed Paul in the side, harshly, as if to tell him that he was going first.

Paul glared at her, rubbing at his side, and looked back to his old guardian.

"I mock you on the training field when your back is turned."

"You _what_?"

"Every time. Every word you say, every move you make, I mock it. Rather dramatically too."

Akeelah raised her hand slightly, "I purposely sneak into your office when your training to move your stuff around just to confuse you. And I hide behind the corner to watch your reaction every time." She held up her hand, her pointer finger and thumb pressed together in the sign of _'okay'. _"Your reaction is always priceless and worth it."

"That's _you _who does that?"

Paul nodded, he's seen that a few times, at least the aftermath of it, it is indeed hilarious to witness his confusion. "I've come up with a series of nicknames for you; Geiser, Quicksilver, Rocy, to name a few. When my squad sees you that's all they think about and they can't take you seriously when they do."

"You said _what_ about me?"

The female trainee hummed, "I sneak out all the time. To steal peaches from the Garden. Re-lace your boots while you sleep. To see Khonsu. To rearrange your office." She leaned back on her hands "Do you remember the bird that was in your office? I did that."

"You _what_?"

The archer in training nodded slightly, "I make fun of your age, _all the time, _and point out your grays to everyone I can manage to. I call them silver though, it's more foxy that way, you're welcome."

Akeelah elbowed Paul again, "We're currently in the middle of a prank war, against you, to see who can manage the best one before you catch on. It's honestly been going on for a while now and you've shocked me, you really have grown inattentive in you growing age, Paul took your sword for like an entire week and you blamed Haniel for the entire duration of that week before he snuck it back into your office."

The Power was speechless, staring at them with wide eyes, beside him, Sasha sat back smugly. No longer was he going to be on the receiving end of the punishment for their shenanigans. Now, this time, it was all on them and he was free from consequence. Nisroc didn't even know which one to comment on first, there was just too much to deal with, and they proclaimed it fearlessly as though he was not the mightiest Power in all of Heaven who could destroy hundreds of demons and creatures on his own.

He quickly recovered, partially, "How long as this been going on?"

"Since the beginning man, Choosing Day, we made it a competition of sorts." Paul smiled at him and Akeelah hummed slightly in affirmation to his words. "To see who can out do the other." He looked to his friend at his side rather smugly, "I've had your favorite leather vest for the last month and you don't even know."

Akeelah quirked her lips smugly, "He does now." Paul's eyes went wide, as though his admissions before weren't enough for fear, this was the one he worried about. He yelped when a hand curled into the front of his tunic and tugged him forward, no matter how big he got, he never matched the strength of his old guardian.

Nisroc had finally broken from his stunned stupor, sitting up on his knees, as he tugged his old charge to lay before him. He dug into his hips and the young archer shrieked, bucking upwards at the sudden harsh attack.

"I may have aged a bit," he dug into his sides just as harshly, smiling at the fingers that curled around his, just as they had when he had been a youngling, "Yet I'm still to strong for you to overtake." He leaned forward to meet his eyes directly, the shined with his laughter, bright in joyfulness, "And my grays are because of _you_."

He looked up when there was shuffling heard, his little partner in crime scuffling to get away from the comeuppance that was sure to be had, and he reached out with a snap, snagging her ankle and tugged her down to lay beside her friend.

"Not so fast, you."

Keeping one hand curled into the boy's side, he dug his free hand into her belly, "And you had better stop moving my things about my office." He leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together, as they had often done when she had been a small fledgling, "Or we'll spend a bit more time together to ensure you learn to keep your hands to _yourself_." She shrieked brightly when he dug into her lower belly, where he knew to be rather sensitive, "And I understand you are in a loving relationship with the Egyptian but if you sneak out to see him _one_ more time, I don't care how embarrassing it may be, you will come stay in my room where I may ensure you stay in place." She nodded quickly, shrieking brightly, fingers curling around his wrist.

Nisroc sat back comfortably, continuing his attack unperturbed by the two squirming younglings under him, and his momentarily questionable mercy.

He turned to look to the side when he heard the smug sigh come back from his youngest charge, he hummed to himself, it had been a rather rough week of training this last week passed.

Once more, the Power leaned forward to loom over the two under him, "If you _try _and run, I will catch you, and you will know just how _brutal _that I can be." They nodded quickly, vowing through residual giggles, after he had paused his attack on the two of them. He let them go for a moment to turn and pull the youngest charge into his side, Sasha yelped and struggled to get out of his grip, but he maintained it and pulled the third of his favorite young ones down next to his partners in crime, Sasha was just as guilty of shenanigans as the other two were.

With him in position, he dug his hands into his thighs, Sasha shrieked just as brightly as his friends had, kicking out in an attempt to dislodge his fingers "Nonononono! Noooooo! Nis, noooooo!"

"Did you think you would get away without _any_ involvement?"

He found a particularly sensitive spot and focused there for a good amount of time.

"I diihihihihidnt…. Dihihihidnt do anythihihing!"

"No," the Power nodded in agreement, "I just love hearing you laugh. You just don't do it enough anymore." He went back to the other two "And the same could be said about you two as well."

He carried on for some time, it was like they were small fledglings again, and these moments were so far and in between, he took advantage of it.

"I may be growing older, but I am still strong enough to take you three on." He smiled at each one of them, pressing a kiss to all three foreheads, "And I always will be."


	294. Apathy

"Raph?"

The archangel looked up at the call of his name, the freshly chosen healer at his side looking up from the file they had been reading to see who had interrupted them, and bit their lip in surprise at the sight of an Egyptian walking freely among the angels and going undisturbed as he strode across the threshold of the Infirmary. Anubis nodded in greeting to the young healer at his friend's side, coming to stand expectantly at the Healer's side, clearly desiring his attention as soon as it could be granted.

"Anubis", the archangel curled his fingers over the deity's shoulder and gave it a rather fond squeeze "Does your need require immediate attention, or may I finish my doings with my student."

"Go ahead, I guess." He waved a hand absently as though he were dismissing the elder in the gesture, the healer student bristled at the disrespect to her teacher, and an arm curled around her lower back and pulled her into the archangels side with gentle ease, as though he could sense her growing frustration at the Egyptian "I can wait."

The Healer raised an eyebrow at the disrespectful gesture made in his direction, but mentally noted it to be brought up at a later time, and he turned back to his student in the meantime to continue reading over the chart. His student returned to his teachings, listening closely as he explained the charts contents. A deep impatient sigh interrupted his explanation, and they both looked up at the Egyptian, impatiently tapping his foot against the stone flooring, arms crossed over his bare chest.

Bright blue eyes watched the deity closely, "Anubis, are you alright?"

The jackal deity nodded silently, looking up at the ceiling above, and they watched him for a moment longer before turning back to the chart. They managed a few more sentences before being interrupted again with another deep impatient sigh, the Egyptian was clearly impatient on whatever matter he had come to discuss with his closest friend, in equal status as his greatest friend Thoth, but just a bit more in the way their relationships differed.

They looked back up at him, stopping another impatient sigh when he noticed their attention directed towards him, tapping the fingers of his right hand against his upper arm.

Raphael stared at him for a moment, and squeezed his students hip lightly, turning to look down at her, "Orion, go with Constantine, he will finish explaining this file and show you what to do." The younger healer seemed against the exchange, in her opinion, her teacher should tell the Egyptian to go wait elsewhere so he could not interrupt them. But she knew better then to be so openly disrespectful, not to an archangel, unlike the Egyptian before them.

So, Orion nodded to her teacher and stepped away to meet up with the Virtue, he had looked over to them at the sound of his name and nodded to her as she approached, holding his hand out for the file she held.

The archangel, in turn, gave his complete attention to the deity, crossing his own arms loosely across his chest "Apologize."

Anubis turned to look at him in shock, his minute pacing coming to a stop, turning around completely to face him.

_"Apologize?" _he tilted his head, as hounds do when they don't understand something "What _for_?"

"You don't _dismiss _me as though I were one of your servants." He stepped forward, their difference in height taking hold, as the archangel looked down at him, and he up at the archangel, "It's disrespectful and I will _not _be disrespected."

Anubis bristled at the command and shook his head, "No."

Raphael hummed deeply, taking hold of the deity's chin, forcing him into looking up at him "You can apologize willingly, or I can force it from you. Either way, you will apologize to me."

The Egyptians eyes widened at the underlying threat, knowing that it would be followed through with, and he nodded, looking down meekly despite the grip on his chin, "sorry."

"Speak up."

"I'm sorry, Saint Raphael."

"Accepted." The archangel released his chin, brushing a thumb over the smooth skin under his chin and jabbing a swift finger into his stomach with fond affection, "There is no need for such formalities." He curled an arm around his companions shoulders "Let's take this to my office for some privacy."

They crossed the threshold together, and the archangel gestured for the jackal deity to enter first, Anubis ducked out from under his arm and entered the office, bolting for the chair that sat behind the massive file covered oak desk. Raphael chuckled fondly as he closed the door behind him, motioning for the Egyptian to stand from his leather chair, Anubis whined like a pup does when they want something, as the archangel pushed him to the side with a certain gentleness and sat in his chair.

"Come here, pup."

Fingers curled around his waist and pulled him around to sit on the archangels lap, he smiled comfortably and leaned back against the archangels chest, feeling arms wind around his waist. A chin came to rest against his shoulder.

"What's on your mind, pup of mine, talk to me."

He turned his head to the side to address his archangel, feeling the warmth breath brush over his neck, "Have you talked to Azrael recently?"

"No, I cannot say that I have," the archangel shifted under him "He is a rather busy angel."

"Well I have. We get together once a month to hang out and catch up and plan your guys downfall and he—"

"You _'plan our downfall'_?"

Anubis huffed "Not the focus here, archangel." He nodded though, a but smugly, "But yes. Yes we do."

"We will come back to that." He poked him in the side and he leaned away from his hand in case he tried again "But go on."

"He's changed, archangel, he's not like he was."

"Changed how?"

Anubis shrugged, "I don't know. It's like….It's like he doesn't care anymore." He thought for a moment. "He's apathetic towards it all. Just going through the motions, guiding those where they need to go, taking their souls as he goes, he doesn't care anymore."

He leaned forward to look the Healer in the eyes, "He used to try and send some back, very few, but he did so. Now he doesn't. He just does the job and moves on."

Raphael hummed "How long has this been going on?"

"At least a month."

"You waited an entire month before bringing this to my attention?" Raphael gave him a disapproving glance and he looked away. "Anubis."

"In my defense, I thought it was just a phase thing, he was just having a bad time and would come out of it!"

"You defense is not much." Fingers squeezed into his side and he jolted, leaning away from the archangel's left hand, yelping slightly at the feeling "But I am in a rather good mood, so I'll let you have it."

"Thanks."

"Only for you."

The young Egyptian watched cautiously as fingers poised over his bare stomach. "You usually wear your beaded chest piece, why not today?" he tried to move away, but the archangel had him right where he wanted him, Anubis sucked in a breath "It's too hot for it in the ancient city so I chose to go without it."

Raphael hummed, leaning back in his chair, "I see. Then that was a wise decision that was made."

Anubis nodded, huffing in anticipation, reaching for the archangel's fingers that remained poised over his bare stomach "Don't you dare."

"I simply can't pass up such an opportunity."

"Fight the urge!"

"No." he could hear the amusement in his archangel's voice from behind him and he took that as his opportunity to prepare himself, "I don't think I will."

…

The one closest to the Angel of Death was the Healer, being that their lines of work often worked in likeness to one another, the Healer could very easily save a life as he could take one, and the Angel of Death guided the souls of those lost to them to their final resting place or he had the ability to send them back to continue on.

He had taken the concern to the others and they had wanted to call the Angel of Death to them in that very moment, but he stayed them, swearing he would handle to problem at hand. He understood where his emotional state came from, as he himself experienced firsthand, it was not that he was apathetic it was more along the line that he was numb to it.

It had been during the war that the numbness had taken him captive, taking the feeling and emotion from his beloved duty, and leaving him simply going through the motions. Tending to those that came needing tending to, not bothering to ensure their comfort or their knowledge to know they were well taken care of, simply going about his duty because it was his _duty_, not because it was something he loved to do.

And it had carried on until their Father had returned and take His four oldest children with Him, where they themselves would be allowed to recover from their personal destruction from the war, so that they may aid in the healing process for the younger generations.

So, Raphael stood in his room, candles illuminating the dark spaces around him, the dim lighting flickering gently around him.

His brothers had sworn, under oath, to leave him to care for their young brother. Michael was in his room, listening for any sound of distress or struggle, he was sure. Lucifer was in his own room, reading the fledgling a story before bed, as he did every night, it was well known that he would read her two stories despite the rule being for only one story. He spoiled his fledgling as much as he could. And, Gabriel was in his room doing only Father knows what and was probably involving them in some way unknown to them at the moment.

Being on his own, he breathed deeply, "Azrael," his voice echoed through the astral plane that connected all angels together, "Come to me." There was very much angels could ignore, but the call of an Archangel was not one of them, it was not a request when one of the archangels called on you, it was an order for your presence. The Angel of Death would come, even if he did not want to, no one could disobey an archangel calling them to their side.

Now it was just a matter of time, and the waiting of when it would come to pass, for him to arrive.

"What do you want?"

His eyebrows raised and he turned in the direction of the voice, behind him, in the shadows that the flickering light of the candles could not reach, stood the one he had called on. His tone was even, flat, there was no sign of life in his tone, monotone and dull, perhaps with a bit of a bite to it. Though, he assumed that the bite that was heard was there more for the fact that he had been summoned to him against his will.

"Is it wrong for an older brother to want to see his younger?"

"You never call for me." Azrael made no intention to step out of the shadows, "So, I come back to my previous question, what do you want from me?"

The Healer took him in, what there was to see physically, though he stand in the dark of the shadows the archangel could see him as though he stood directly in front of him. He noted the dark circles under the younger angel's eyes, the fists that clenched loosely at his sides, the hunch of his shoulders as he curled into himself, the thick book tucked under his left arm.

"Where are your hounds?"

"Behind me." He looked down, and there they stood, teeth bared at him threateningly, "Where they always are."

"I see." He knelt, holding his hands out to the two hounds, they backed away a step and growled. He waited patiently, they knew him rather well, and it was the one on the right, Nero, that stepped forward first. He sniffed at his outstretched fingers, yapped softly, and rubbed his snout over his hand. The other, Dante, was soon to follow as though to ensure his companion did not get all the attention. He rubbed their heads softly and they rubbed against him for it, huffing and such, like pups do when given affectionate touches.

Raphael gestured to the great bed behind him, and they both barked softly, trotting forward to jump up on the end, circling for a moment, before curling up at the foot of the bed. Heads resting on their paws, they watched the archangel and their master with rapt attention, as though to jump forward should any ill-meant gesture be made towards their angel.

He turned back to his younger brother, standing back to his full height, "I am worried for you."

"Don't be. I am fine."

"You are a horrid liar," he smiled affectionately "You always were."

"I don't care if you don't believe me."

"Look at yourself, Azrael." The archangel waved his hand to indicate his entire form, "You are about to burst at the seams."

"I _said _I'm fine."

The archangel continued on though as though the other hadn't spoken the falsity, "I cannot imagine how you do your duty and maintain your love for life."

"I'm _fine_."

"How it must toll on you to see so much sadness. Be it the families that sit by the side of those you collect or the aged partner that will wake to find their love has left them."

"I'm _okay._"

"I cannot imagine how it must hurt when you have to reap the souls of children, hardly old enough to have experienced life, and already leaving it behind."

"I'm _fine_, I _told_ you."

"To know that there is little you can do to mend their broken hearts."

"Stop."

Raphael watched him carefully, to note the action to indicate he had taken it too far, and he hasn't see it yet. Thus, he continued.

"How many babes have you had to take before they even come to see the world?"

"_Stop._"

"The pain you must feel when you watch the life leave their eyes."

_"Stop it."_

He noted the way his fists clenched tightly, how his eyes smoldered at him for his continued intrusions, and he readied himself for the lashing from the younger angel.

"How many beg you to return them and you have to deny their pleading despite your own feelings."

_"Shut up!"_

"All this grief and no one cares that the Angel of Death grieves with them."

_"Stop…Shut up!"_

"All the souls you've had to ferry; men, woman, children, the deaths you have had to witness."

_"Just stop!"_

He watched carefully as his shoulders went taught with strain, his arms shook from pressure, and braced himself.

"Murder and suicide, life taken by another or by oneself, you've watched it all. I can't imagine all the _suffering _you've laid witness to. The cruelty of a horrible soul taking the life of a pure child's soul. The torture of their death before your very eyes. The sadness and grief of one who thinks the only solution is to take their own life from their own hands."

_"Shut up, Raphael!"_

"To see the worst and know that they will not survive. I can't imagine having that knowledge that someone will suffer; whether it be illness or mentality or physically, and that they will not survive their suffering."

Finally, he hit the nerve, he cut the cord keeping the younger in place, Azrael's silver eyes swirled with fury and it was all directed at him.

_"I said shut up!" _he rushed forward, leaving the shadows behind, and raised his fists to strike him with all his might in the punch. The Healer met him, without taking a single step, catching his fists when he aimed for his face _"Shut up! Stop! Just stop!" _a rough sob tore from the Angel of Death's chest, whether it be from fury or anguish, or both, he could no decipher yet.

All the same though, he quickly released the fists to wrap him tightly in his arms, pulling him as close as he could manage. Azrael did not come without a fight, beating his fists against his chest, pushing against him until he strained himself to keep him from escaping, the younger angel was stronger then he appeared to be. But no matter how much he struggled, the Healers grip was unwavering, and ever so slowly to fight left him and he sagged into his chest. His fingers clutching to his tunic as tightly as he could manage, as another harsh sob tore from within him, and then another. Until his shoulders quaked and the room was filled with their muffled sounds from being pressed to his broad chest.

He held him tightly, his arms curling around him tighter and rested his chin on his smooth dark hair.

"That's it," he murmured softly, "let it out."

Azrael choked on a sob, and had he not been listening as intently as he had, he would have missed it.

_"It's not fair, Raph, it's not fair!"_

He closed his eyes and took a breath, "I know it's not. There are few others who can do our duties and not lose who they are."

_"I want… I want to send them all back…... I want to punish them all…... the ones who take them away from their lives!"_

"I know, little raven, I know you do." He leaned forward to press his face against the side of his head, "But you are their savior, think not of the pain they felt, think of the relief they feel." He pressed his lips to the side of his temple, "Where were you?" the archangel closed his eyes, "Where were you when I summoned you?"

_"She was only little, Rapha, she was only six years. The man…The man, he….he…I was so angry…There wasn't anything I could do…I watched….I watched him…and she cried…she cried so hard…she begged for her mother and father… and he..he….she screamed in so much pain…and I watched….he….he wrapped his hands around her neck….I heard her last breath and then she appeared…..She was only of six years…..She had done nothing…..he….he….she thanked me…but I didn't do anything….I couldn't…..I wanted to…But I couldn't….."_

"Oh, my little raven, I am so sorry." He took a deep breath himself, he has seen the cruelty humanity can offer, their wars and their bloodshed, there is no damage that Lucifer caused that humanity hadn't already done to themselves. But no one, not even he, saw it as personally as Azrael did. He was there for their moment of death, he saw the events that led to it, even if it be heinously bad, he laid witness to it, and it was a wonder how long he had managed before he had let the numbness overtake him.

He was the silent witness to everything; murder, suicide, natural cause, he witnessed it all.

"I can take the memories." He scratched lightly at his lower back, refusing to release him from his embrace, to uncurl his arms from around him, not while he still clutched at him as tightly as he was, "I can take them for you. You only need to ask."

Azrael shook his head, he wanted to remember it all, remember how _strong _they had been. How bright their souls were. He wanted to remember them all. He wanted to remember for the ones who were taken without choice, for when the dark souls came to stand before the high council, before Father, for their judgement and he could tell them all what they had done.

His sobs had long since come to a silence, his breathing uneasy as he hiccupped from the force of his cries, his eyes stung from the tears as he turned against his older brothers chest. He pressed his ear against it, listening to the beating of his heart, the thrum of his electrifying grace just under his skin, listening to just how _alive _he was.

"It's not fair, Rapha," he took a deep breath "It's not fair."

He heard the hum from deep in his brothers chest, felt it rumble under him, "I know, my little raven, life never plays a fair game." A hand curled around the side of his head, long fingers curled around his eyes, "You are one of the strongest angels I know, little raven, stronger then myself. Stronger then Nisroc. Stronger then any Power, any Virtue, any Principality. You far surpass Lucifer's strength, Gabriel's strength, even Michael's." he settled against his older brother, letting him carry most of his weight, "There are none that could do the duty you were given. Think not of the sorrow and agony that those souls felt, but of the relief and safety they feel. You are a freer of souls. You are their savior. Their rescuer." His head is gently lifted from the Healers chest, both of his large hands curling around his face, their eyes meeting for the first time in such a long time, a regrettable amount of time, "You are their greatest defender, the silent witness, you bring them justice when judgement is called upon. They are free from the cruelty of man, the pain and the sorrow, and you are the one who frees them."

Raphael brushed his thumbs over his cheeks, under his eyes, to brush away the trail of the tears "And you needn't keep the pain and the sorrow to yourself. I am always here for you. Michael is always here for you, Lucifer, Gabriel, Father, we are all here for you."

Azrael nodded silently, fingers curling back into the Healer's forest green tunic, tugging on it until the Healer obliged his silent request and wrapped him back in his arms and allowing him to burrow back into his chest.

"Anubis told you."

"He cares deeply for you."

He sighed deeply, nuzzling deeper into his brothers chest, "He's a good friend."

"He most certainly is."

They stood there for a long time, curled around each other, until the Healer looked down to him and brushed stray hairs from his face, "Do you want to lay down with me?"

His younger brother thought on it a moment, most certainly considering on the matter of if he should go back to his duties or not, it was not a day of rest and he should return, "The Reapers can handle things while you are away and Anubis has taken over their command for the time being. My Virtues will take care of things in the Infirmary." The archangel rubbed a soothing pattern of circles over his back, "Allow yourself this rest, little raven."

Azrael didn't need much convincing, he nodded against his brothers chest, refusing to let go. It caused them a slight difficulty, and his hounds whined and yapped at their being disturbed, but they managed to find themselves a comfortable position on the bed. His hounds stretched out over their feet warmly, and he lay curled in the crook of his brothers elbow, long fingers brushing through his hair as bright blue eyes gazed down at him with unconditional affection.

"Close your eyes, little raven."

He nodded, curling himself closer, pressing into the crook of his neck, practically on top of the archangel, and their legs intertwined. His older brother didn't seem to mind, curling his arm back around him and pulling him closer, he took a deep breath. Taking in the scent of his older brother; the pine, ozone, and antiseptic. Fingers scratched at his shoulders, and he sighed deeply, falling limp over his brother's chest.

"Close your eyes, my raven."

Azrael did so, a tad hesitantly, and he felt gentle fingers drag over his forehead and his eyes.

The chest under him rumbled as he spoke, "I will make sure you have nothing but _good _dreams."


	295. Wound Up

"Sir," Michael looked up at his Captain's call, turning away from the new recruits he had been addressing, his Powers knew not to interrupt him unless it was of great importance, so for Nisroc to be calling for him as he was he knew something most certainly must be going on that needed immediate attention. "Something has come up that you should be brought to your attention."

He held a hand up to stay the class, turning to address his Power with his utmost attention, Nisroc did not interrupt him during these moments unless it was of great importance. His captain could most usually handle the matters that came up that he could not attend to during these times.

"What is it, Nisroc?"

The Power looked at the recruits for a moment, and turned back to lean closer to his commander, "Sir, he waits for you in your office."

Michael quirked an eyebrow, "Who waits for me?"

"Sir, I think it best if you see for yourself."

Nisroc was adamant about him coming with him, that much was clear, and in that very notion he knew immediately how precarious a situation they had found themselves in. He didn't know the identity of the individual waiting for him in his office and yet there had been a certain level of alarm brought up with their appearance.

The Archangel nodded, waving Haniel and Abraxos over to take over the instruction for him, and gestured for his captain to lead the way. Nisroc nodded once, turning on his heel, and they walked briskly across the training field to the Pavilion above. There was a violent barking coming from his office, and he turned to look at the one next to him in confusion, the voices of Puriel and Titus floated out with them, trying to reassure and calm at the same time, and then came the dangerous growl before the yelps of pain. That had them rushing forward, and they nearly crashed into the two of them as they jumped back out of the office, Titus's hand was bleeding, and he appeared to have been bitten by something with rather sharp canines.

He touched a hand to his upper arm, "Go get that tended to." The archangel shared a glance with his captain and turned to peer into his office. Pacing back and forth, hackles raised, sharp canines bared as it growled dangerously on edge, was a shepherd sized jackal. A golden band through one long ear, two manacles of gold around both front ankles, bright golden eyes burning with a fury that was unnatural for it, growling at anything that moved.

Michael knew who waited for him at first sight, the jackal usually went to his younger brother, Raphael, but seeing as the Healer was away on a mission at the moment with the dreaded Winchesters, he had been the next best option. Part of him was tempted to tell the enraged jackal where his 'guardian' was and let those two imbecilic hunters deal with an enraged deity. He knew they would surely attack him first and ask questions later, and that would set off his brother's rather explosive temper, and that was the last thing they needed returning to them.

Nisroc stood at his shoulder, clearly he hadn't seen the Egyptian god of death in his jackal form, "Sir, be mindful, we don't know if it could be rabid."

"Nonsense," he's seen this form though, plenty of times, with his younger brother and without, the godling was rather cared for by all four of them, none so much as the Healer, but he knew him rather well, "Titus merely moved too fast and he is resting on a hairline trigger."

"Sir, I don't understand."

Michael smiled at him from over his shoulder, kneeling before him, and held his hand out to the pacing jackal. It snarled and snapped at his fingers, he merely folded them out of reach but maintained his position nonetheless, he felt Nisroc tense behind him and he knew that his captain had curled his fingers around the hilt of his sword when the jackal turned and took a threatening position as though to pounce at his commander.

He held his other hand up to stay his action.

"No, it's alright, he is just angry." He paused, "Rather severely too."

Reaching out with his other hand, Michael called to him, "Anubis", the jackal huffed and bent low on its front legs, "What's gotten you so angry?" teeth bared dangerously, any younger angel would have backed away in terror, and the Captain would never admit it, but the thought had crossed his mind too, he's heard stories of the Egyptian's rather legendary temper when he was provoked.

The jackal howled in rage and jumped, the Captain made to jump in front of his Commander, but Michael held him back and let the beast jump at him without an attempt to shield himself from the attack.

The Viceroy chuckled at the large snout that rubbed against his face, the warm tongue that licked at his chin and nose, the beast that had been so enraged previously rubbing against him like an overgrown puppy. He rubbed a hand down the back of its soft neck, scratching as he went, "Someone's peaked your temper, cub." The jackal yapped and nudged his chin with it's head, long ears twitching in residual agitation. "Can you turn back so we may talk, cub?" the jackal huffed and shook it's head, Michael hummed in acknowledgement, cupping his hand around the soft head "You feel as though you will lose grip of your magic if you turn back, don't you?" it licked his chin again and he nodded, "Understood. My, my, someone has truly gotten under your skin, haven't they?"

His jackal companion barked lowly, smacking a paw to the ground, and nudged his hand impatiently.

"I believe if we wear off some of the enraged energy we may have more luck getting to the middle of this agitation."

Michael scratched behind one of the long ears, knowing that it would pacify the jackal for a moment before the elation at having his ear scratched wore off, and he used his window of opportunity to turn back to his captain.

"Nisroc, do you still have that ball you took away from Erathaol?"

The Power looked confused at the strange inquiry, nodding in affirmation. "It's in my office."

"Wonderful, would you go retrieve it for me?"

"Sir?

He chuckled softly, switching to the other ear with a cold nose pressed against his fingers, "You'll see. Trust me." The archangel turned back to the jackal, golden eyes still smoldering, looked up at him when it noticed his attention having returned to it, "Do you want to go play in the Garden?" it's ears perked up at the word _'play'_ and a warm tongue licked at his face again until he pushed the jackal away with a light chuckle. "I'll take that as a yes, you do want to go play in the Garden, come then."

Michael kissed the jackal's snout fondly, holding it's head in both hands "But no more biting."

The jackal whined and ducked slightly.

"Good." He stood and gestured for his Captain to lead the way. Nisroc raised an eyebrow, but knew better then to ask questions, there were many deities and creatures that the four commanders knew rather well, and it was better just to go along with it then question it. "Lead the way, captain."

…

"This," he gestured to the jackal that ducked down on its two front legs, waiting excitedly, tail wagging, in anticipation for his commander to throw the ball again. "Is the Egyptian god of Death."

Michael chuckled at the incredulousness in his tone, nodding as he threw the ball and the jackal turned to chase after it with elation and exuberance, turning to his captain to nod in affirmation.

"It's hard to believe, isn't it?"

"I thought he would be more…. Regal."

The archangel nodded, "He is when the time calls for it." The jackal returned the ball, dropped it at his feet, and jumped back again hunching low in elated anticipation for it to be thrown again. Michael was quick in obliging, smiling when the jackal turned tail and bolted after it, clapping when it jumped up and caught it midair, and dropped to all fours to chew on it for a moment. "But outside of those moments, he is a rather young deity, and sometimes I kid that he is more jackal then he is otherwise."

"I thought he was one of the original gods."

"He is," Michael nodded to him, watching the jackal closely, the last thing they needed was an enraged Anubis running around without Raphael there to reign him in, he listened to the others only so much, but always did as the third born said without any inkling of disobedience. "I believe he maintains this visage so he can use it as an excuse for his rather mischievous nature." He chuckled lightly, "Like him and Azrael _'planning our downfalls'_, they don't know that I know, but I do." Nisroc watching him shake his head fondly, "Those two, I swear it, I'm letting them keep this up for a while longer before I step in and show them just how much strength they are going against."

The jackal returned and dropped the ball at their feet once more, stepping back, watching with attentive golden eyes as the archangel picked it up and threw it, and ran after it once more.

"Like I said, he is rather mischievous," he looked over to his captain, "He will try and prank anyone that he knows, and he knows you now," Michael turned to watch the jackal shake it's head with the ball in it's mouth, tail wagging happily "So if he tries to prank you, the places to go for in return are his feet and lower belly, gets him _every _time."

"I'd never imagine that a god could be—"

"Ticklish?" Michael chuckled when his captain nodded "Oh, very much so, if you find that hard to imagine, just rub that beard of yours into his lower belly and witness the response you'll get."

"Sir, how do you know such things?"

"I've known him for almost four eons. You pick up on a few things with that much time. If none of this works, then I'll show you what most certainly does."

The jackal dropped the ball at the Power's feet, tail wagging, and stepped back. Michael chuckled at the Power's look of astonishment, and leaned closer to him, "It means that he likes you, Nisroc. He gave you the ball, that means he considers you a friend. He wants you to throw it for him."

…

The three of them met up with the Morningstar next, who had his fledgling with him as was the norm on these days, and the jackal sniffed the fledgling for a good two minutes before leaning up to lick at her face. They smiled at little Akeelah's giggles and how the jackal let her hug him around the neck.

Lucifer looked to Michael curiously, nodding to the jackal that was distracted with his fledgling, and Michael raised his chin in reply. What needed shared was done so in those simple gestures, and they turned back to watch the jackal jump around with the fledgling, until they noticed that they were being watched and returned to their respective masters sides.

The Morningstar offered the jackal a rather large piece of meat, and the hound laid down to chew on it viciously for a while, much to their amusement.

Lucifer took his fledgling back up into his arms and nodded in the captains direction, "Was Nis surprised at how playful he is?"

The Power blushed when his Commander chuckled and nodded, patting him on the shoulder. "In his defense though, he really only stays in the Infirmary with Raphael when he comes to visit, I doubt your own captain would know too much when it came to the jackal either."

The blonde archangel held up a free hand, "No offense meant, mother hen, I was just asking."

Akeelah giggled again when the jackal shook it's head from side to side trying to tear the meat apart.

"Where did you find this meat you happened to have with you, little brother?"

Lucifer hummed, "Apollo gave it to me." He nodded to it, "That's fine buffalo right there."

…

They made their way to the Messenger next, Gabriel had been ecstatic to see the jackal again, and knelt down for it to jump up, rest it's front paws on his shoulders, and lick at his face. He enticed the jackal to roll over and rubbed at it's belly, something any hound liked, and the jackal did so with joyfulness.

Any belly rubs were appreciated, from any source, though none were as great as the Healers were, it wasn't one to turn them down.

…

They met back in the archangels office, the jackal returning to it's pacing, though the spark of anger that had shined in it's eyes had dimmed, it was still pretty evident there. Michael sighed deeply, wishing for a moment that his younger brother would return soon, and closed his office door.

When all else fails.

The jackal came to a halt at their approach, glowering in a way that had them sighing in unison, their day of adventure with an enraged jackal who refused to turn back to it's humanoid form had been nearly for naught.

Michael turned to his captain, "Nisroc, do you seen the golden bands around it's front ankles?" he waited for his captain to nod in affirmation, "Those are what allow him to go between his forms, it's like a circuit, if you touch them you are breaking the circuit and it makes it harder for him to change. Not impossible. Just more difficult."

Nisroc nodded, turning to look at him in confusion, "I understand, but why tell me this?"

"I am going to force him to turn back to his other form and I need you to catch him, wrap your hands around the bands to keep him from turning back immediately after, alright?"

The Power nodded and braced himself, watching as his Commander made a semi complicated gesture with his hand, as though drawing a rune in the air, and there was a sharp crack of power. He reached for the bands as he was ordered to, and it was no difficult task seeing as the Egyptians humanoid form barely came up to his chest.

Michael crossed his arms and waited for the deity to stop struggling, until he fell limp in the Power's hold, and glared at him.

"Hello, Anubis."

"You're such a cheater!"

He smiled in amusement, "You forgot that we could do that, didn't you?"

"Every _single_ time, man!"

He turned to look when the Archangel gestured for the one keeping him captive in this form, "Anubis, this is my captain, Nisroc." And then he gestured to the deity, "Nisroc, this is Anubis."

The Egyptian stared up at him for a moment and he wasn't sure what to feel about it, was he seeking to appear intimidating, because if he was it was not having the desired effect.

"Dude, you're so _tall_."

"And you're short."

Anubis made a face, "I'm not _short_."

Nisroc snorted in amusement at his denial, Michael smiled at their interaction, "Yes you are." He clapped his hands, "Now, tell us, what has you so worked up."

"Honestly?" Anubis shrugged, "I got over it like ten minutes after you came in this morning." He smiled mischievously, "I just wanted to see how far you'd go, beyond that point."

Michael narrowed his eyes slightly, crossing his arms over his chest, even the Power behind him inhaled deeply, but there was no hint of remorse in his golden eyes.

"You mean to tell me that we ran all around Heaven with you because you wanted to see how far we'd go to ease your temper?"

"Yep." He licked his lips, "That buffalo was delicious. So thanks for that."

Michael huffed in his own aggravation, and Nisroc smirked over the young deity's head, "You had said feet and lower belly, sir?"

Anubis's eyes widened when Michael smiled instead, nodding in agreement "I did indeed, didn't I?" he held his hands out for him "Pass him here." Anubis knew what was coming, he knew too well, and watched rather intently for the exchange. As soon as they let go of the bands, he could transform back and bolt for it, but there was no opportunity. With a strange sort of coordination between the two of them, Michael's fingers slipped around the manacles as Nisroc's slid off.

"Wait! No! Guys! Let's talk about this!"

They ignored him though, Michael bent slightly, looking up at his captain, he spoke over the deity's shoulder, "Remember what I told you in the Garden?" Nisroc looked confused for a moment, "Sir?" realization dawned on him a moment later and he shook his head "I could never—"

Michael grunted, wrapping both his and the gods arms around the Egyptians middle, and lifted him off his feet as he stood back up to his full height.

"Think of him as though he were a fledgling, that is what he is compared to you, what would you do to a fledgling who wasted your day for no reason but their own amusement?"

He'd clearly never considered it like that before, and the Power nodded, Anubis watched with wide eyes as he knelt slightly, and wound his arms around his lower back as though to keep him in place.

Michael smiled, his captain still had doubts despite it all, even this new way of looking at it.

"Nisroc."

He turned to look up at him, his unsureness shining in his eyes, the archangel chuckled at the reaction he knew there was to be seen, "Do it."

"Sir, I don't kno—"

"Trust me." The Power nodded without hesitation, "Then know it's alright, do it, the reaction will humor you greatly."

Blue eyes looked down to meet golden, and the young deity shook his head, but his interest was peaked too. He wanted to see just how he would react as well. The deity was just a fledgling. A mischievous fledgling that needed punished now.

The Power looked down to the bare belly surface that was before him, his arms already in place, and eyed it cautiously for a moment. Doing this was personal, and though it seemed that the archangel knew him enough to do such a thing, for how else would he know what the reaction would be, he was not in the same position.

But then, his commander had said that the jackal deity thought of him as a friend, when he had given him the ball in the Garden.

He huffed in contemplation.

Anubis _screamed _in laughter when it happened, one moment he was just sitting there staring at him, and the next he shot forward and burrowed into his lower belly. He thrust his head back into the archangel's chest, not hearing his deep chuckles over his own hysterical laughter, struggling to free his arms from the archangel's grip, anything to get his new friend away from his belly.

It was bad enough when the two archangels did it, but this one, this one had a _beard_, and that made it so much _worse_.

He figured in the position he was in there was one of two options, he could kick either the archangel in the shin as hard as he could, and risk his wrath, or he could kick the other in the stomach as hard as he could.

As if knowing his thoughts, the Egyptian was almost sure that angels couldn't read minds, and figured he'd probably just had plenty of experience with these types of things, his new friend shook his head.

Anubis _lost _it.

Boisterous laughter exploded from him all over again, and he didn't think about it, he pulled his foot forward and back with as much force as he could muster and kicked the archangel as hard as he could in the shin. The deities of earth weren't nearly as strong as the archangels were, especially the oldest, but they were indeed strong. Michael let go of him in an instant to reach for his throbbing ankle, grunting from the impact and the bruise he was sure was forming there already, glaring at the young deity from where he knelt.

He was sure that as soon as he let go of his manacles, the Egyptian would change his form back, and it did surprise him when he buried his fingers instead into his captains hair, both pushing and pulling at the same time, as any other fledgling would had they been in the same position.

A bubble of laughter escaped the archangel when the Power tightened his hold and stood instead, making no change in position, nor pulling away from him. His fingers flexed once and dug deeply into the bare sides, Anubis screamed again, bending forward slightly as he gripped at the Power's hair tightly.

It was in that moment that realization dawned on him, Anubis could change forms at any time he chose and he knew he could, but there was one of two possibilities, or both in the same moment, that could be had; he was too distracted by the Power's rather merciless torture to gather up enough of his magic to do so, or, he was choosing not to change.

Michael laughed at their exchange.

"Let go of my hair."

He spoke it into the skin of the deity's lower belly and it only made him tighten his grip on the Power's hair and laugh harder.

"Lehehehet meheheh gohohoho!"

"I'll bite you."

"I... I'll bihihite yohohou bahahahaahack!"

Rather noticeably though, when the Power turned slightly, nibbling softly into right side of the Egyptians lower belly, the young jackal deity immediately uncurled his fingers from the captain's hair and instead gripped at his shoulders as he absolutely howled with hysterical laughter.

The door to his office opened, and he turned to see who had entered, smiling at the one who joined them.

"Now, that's rather cruel."

Michael chuckled behind him, a smiling lighting the other archangels features at the sight, when Anubis turned immediately in their direction at the sound of his voice. Raphael smiled at him, giving a slight wave in greeting, leaning heavily on his staff.

He reached a tan hand out for the Healer, "Hehehehehelp! Mahahahahake hihihihim stohohohop! _Pleheheheheahahahse!"_

The Healer turned to look at his older brother in amusement, "Did you hear that, brother, he said 'please'." He turned back to his Egyptian charge, "Perhaps in a bit, from what I've been told, you've been rather hot recently. This'll do you some good."

They watched as the Power turned to the other side of his lower belly, the same treatment as the other side, and Anubis bent forward, fingers digging sharply in the captain's shoulders, feeling tears well in his eyes at the agony of his torture.

Fingers dug into his sides again and he reached for them, howling with boisterous laughter, attempting to tug them away.

The two archangels struck up a conversation around their hysterical laughter that rang in the eldest's office, about the mission the Healer had just returned from, how Anubis had ended up in this predicament he found himself in now, how the Infirmary was running in his absence. They talked about each other's day, about the last week, what they had planned for the next.

A commotion drew them out of their conversation, Anubis had managed to pry Nisroc's fingers from his sides and loosen the grip around his back enough that he fell from his position to the floor below.

They watched in amusement as he curled around himself, his arms crossing over his stomach, as though anticipating another attack.

"Ohoho my Raha! Oh myhy Ra!"

He rubbed the back of his right hand over his eyes.

"Yohou guys ahare soho mean toho me!" the Egyptian whined through residual giggles, "I dihihidn't eheheven do ahanything!"

The three of them rolled their eyes at the young deity's words.

Nisroc knelt, ruffling his thick hair, "It was a pleasure to meet you, godling, I hope we get to do this again some time."

"Gohohod to meet yohou toho!"

A young hand curled around his and they shook hands in greeting, before the young jackal boy let go of it to curl his arm back around his belly, finally managing to get his breathing under control again.

Raphael chuckled at the two of them, stepping forward to kneel before the god. "Climb up, we'll go get you some rest, you must be spent after this whole thing." Anubis reached forward, curling his arms around the Healer's neck, and as he stood, he curled his legs around his waist too, resting his head on the archangel's shoulder. He gripped the two small crossed feet fondly and bid them both a farewell, departing with his Egyptian charge with him.

Michael waited until his office door closed again before turning back to his captain.

"Didn't I tell you his reaction would be amusing."


	296. Rope

Golden eyes stared into silver for a long silent moment, the other guards on duty at the gates breathed not a word, watching the first of many exchanges with rapt attention, ready to pull the two apart should the need for it arise. The two of them stood about as high as German Shepherds, one a rich black color with a golden collar around it's neck, the other a brown and black hound, a leather collar around it's neck, and they stared at each other in tense stillness, a ball in one's mouth and a length of rope in the others.

The two hounds circled each other silently, as though eyeing the other for a chance of possible threats, huffing and sniffing deeply.

There was a collective sigh when the two of them changed forms.

One into a tan young man, red and gold skirts hanging down his legs, golden manacles around his wrists, and his thick black hair gathered in one thick tail down his back.

The other, a young man slightly paler then the first, though tinted in his own way, a loose pair of trousers belted to his waist and a silver ring curled through his ear.

Both wore no top and no foot wear.

"So, you're Erathaol."

The other boy nodded, "And that would make you Anubis."

"I played with your ball."

Erathaol looked mildly offended. "You played with _my _ball?"

Anubis held his hands up in defense. "Hey, man, they had it on them and who would question someone when their throwing a ball for you?"

"Touche." The angel hound wagged a finger at him slightly, "Touche."

"I got a rope toy if you want it though." Anubis tried not to sound smug when the others face fell slightly, Erathaol looked like someone had just teased him with his favorite treat "You _got _a rope toy!"

"Yea, Raph got it for me."

The angel hound looked utterly dejected, "Wh—What? He got _you _one but didn't even _think _to get me one?"

"Wh—What?" Anubis looked distressed for him, "That…. That's not cool, not at all, I'm sorry man." He gestured behind him, where the toy he'd come with lay forgotten, "You can have mine if you want it."

"No, no." Erathaol was at a loss for words, waving the offer away absently, turning away to pace a few steps. "I can't believe he'd _do _this to me." He crossed his arms over his chest tightly. "I mean, I bite Castiel only _sometimes_, but I'm a _good_ boy, I _deserve_ a rope toy."

"You bite _Castiel!_"

He nodded, glancing at the other over his shoulder. "It makes Michael upset, but he doesn't really mind."

"Dude, that's awesome, you're so lucky. I'm not allowed to bite _anyone_."

"Yea, Raph's strict like that, sorry friend."

Anubis shrugged absently, as long as Raphael didn't find out, he was alright to do as he pleased. A grin slowly began to form over his features, so much so that it caused the angel hound to halt his pacing to watch him, a smile forming over his own features as though their thoughts synced together.

"Wanna be friends?"

"Sure."

Anubis bounced on the balls of his feet. "Wanna go guilt Raph into getting you a rope toy?"

Erathaol's eyes went wide, and he nodded quickly, "Do dogs chase balls?"

"Yes!"

"Then let's go!"

Both turned forms once more, one gathering up the ball they'd carried and the other their rope and trotted through the gates together.

One of the guards wiped a hand over his forehead, "Their going to cause trouble together, aren't they?"

"What did he say?" his companion turned to look at him, "Do dogs chase balls?"

…

"Hey."

The Healer looked up from the leg he had been wrapping at the hand that settled on his shoulder, Rachael nodded in the direction of the entrance, "I think you should see this."

"See what?"

She looked back down to him. "Just look."

Sighing deeply, he set the swath of bandages down on the edge of the bed, rubbing the angels calf softly in a silent promise to return after a moment away, and stood from the chair he sat on to see what had caught her attention. Trotting down the length of the aisle was two rather large hounds, one a rich black and the other a mixture of black and brown, one was carrying a green ball and the other a blue rope toy. They both came to rest at his feet, and he stared down at them in surprise, trying to piece together when the two of them had met one another and why he couldn't remember it.

"Hello Anubis, Erathaol."

He held his hands out to them and they both jumped forward to lick at his fingers in greeting, rubbing their snouts over his arms, and the Healer knelt to rub at their necks.

"What brings you here?" he looked between them as though searching for injury, "Are you both alright?"

The jackal huffed, shaking it's fur out, laying on its belly on the cool tile flooring.

He turned to look at the angel hound in concern. "Erathaol, has something happened?"

The angel hound whined pitifully, pawing at the blue rope toy that had been dropped next to him, and the Healer turned to look down at it.

"Yes." He nodded slightly. "Yes, the rope, what of it, Era?"

The hound lowered itself to it's belly to, whining pitifully, nudging the toy with it's snout and then his hand. The Healer looked confused for a moment, the confusion taking over the concern, "What about the toy, Era?"

It threw it's head to the jackal, huffing softly, and then nudged the toy closer to him with its snout again. Raphael sighed, taking the toy into his hand, holding up for the hound to see.

"What about Anubis's toy?"

The angel hound whined and crawled forward, nudging his hand with his snout again, nipping at his fingers softly.

Realization dawned on him after a moment of pure staring, and he groaned in exasperation as he stood, tossing the toy back to the jackal who caught it happily, and placed his hands on his hips. Rachael was giggling into her hand behind him, the angel in the bed chuckling into his arm, and he turned to glance at them into silence over his shoulder. As soon as he turned away, they started up again.

"Are you trying to _guilt _me into getting you the same toy?" The angel hound crept forward again, licking at his toes, looking up at him with wide innocent silver eyes. "You both are as bad as fledglings."

It whined again, this time the jackal joined in, both staring up at him with wide innocent eyes. The very definition of giving one the _'puppy dog eyes'_. The Healer sat back in the chair he had stood from only moments before, giving them both a particular look of equal parts fondness and exasperation, leaning forward on his knees.

"If you wanted one that badly you could've just asked, I would have gotten you one, no need to give me those big puppy eyes."

The angel hound surged forward, yapping happily, and licked at his face before he had a chance to sit up straight again. He scrunched his face up as the warm tongue lapped at his face, chuckling softly, he pushed him away. "Alright, alright, you are most welcome." He gestured to what he had been doing before he'd been pulled away. "Let me finish here and we'll go get you one."

Both jackal and hound barked once in unison, crawling forward to lay at his feet, and he shook his head as he turned back and picked up the bandages once more.

"I swear," he looked up at both Rachael and his patient, "they are the most fearsome hounds on the battlefield, but they are the biggest puppies I know."

Two rather offended yelps came from under him, and he turned back to binding the leg before him, "Yes. You two are. Just big puppies."


	297. Hasmal

They had been discussing the sorting of the newest squadron of trainees when someone knocked on the door of his office, he ignored it a moment, responding to what had been spoken from Titus's direction, and there was another knock with a tad more urgency in it.

Sighing deeply, Nisroc raised his hand to silence the conversation they had been having, and waved for Haniel to open the door so they may see what the matter was, settle it, and return to the direct matter at hand.

One of their young recruits stood there, red faced, as though they had run all the way there from the other side of the barrack and looked surprised to see them all in one place.

"Daniel?"

Nisroc called out to the young recruit when it seemed to explanation was forthcoming in regards to his interruption, they all knew they were welcome to the Captain's office, but when the door was shut they also knew that he was in the middle of something and not to be disturbed unless the situation as dire and required his immediate attention.

Bright violet eyes met his at the call of his name.

"What's the matter?"

The younger angel opened his mouth, huffing for breath, and pointed behind him. "Fire…. Armory…." they stood on edge, straightening in position, as the Powers turned to give him their attention as one.

Nisroc frowned lightly, "The armory is on fire?", worry lighting his own tone, asking once again to ensure he had heard correctly the first time.

Daniel nodded, "Armory… Fire…. Hasmal…"

They exchanged uneasy glances with one another, and Nisroc slowly stood from his chair, staring at the new recruit intensely.

"Hasmal set the armory on fire?"

When Daniel nodded, that was all that needed said, their captain had managed to make it to the front before they did. The young recruit stepped to the side in surprise at the sudden rush, watching as the Powers ran down the hall as a group, for the burning armory and their fellow comrade.

Someone came up behind him and he turned when they tapped his shoulder, an older recruit smiled down at him kindly, "What happened?"

"Hasmal set the armory on fire."

The older recruit frowned, looking in the direction the Powers had run in. "He hasn't done that in ages. I wonder what broke that streak."

"He's done it _before_?"

The elder nodded, looking down at him thoughtfully, with the Powers all distracted they'd be having a free day, so he wound his arm around the younger recruits shoulders and steered him in the other direction.

"What do you know of The Returned?"

…

It had been a common occurrence when he had first come home, any slight thing would bring him to combusting and burning everything around him, it had been touch and go for a while at first. Gentle words and gentle touches, not wanting to unintentionally incite the volatile explosive Returned Power, and they had often stayed with him in his room when he slept so when he woke suddenly, he knew that he was not alone again.

Things had progressed from there, and progress had been made, he could sleep on his own. He wasn't spontaneously combusting anymore. Michael had even cleared him for active duty, though a tad reluctantly, but clearance had been given by the Healer, with supervision of course.

But there was still moments, all of The Returned still had moments, when they were thrown back in the endless darkness and panic set in. When a coldness unfelt by those around them curled over them like a thick blanket. When nothing but the cruel laughter of Aunt echoed in their ears. And it was in those moments that they lost their grip on their power and destruction was wrought. The Returned wouldn't go to the Throne Room, Father came to them when the need arose for His being there, simply on the fact that Aunt would be in the Throne Room and they couldn't face Her even still.

The door to the armory was slightly ajar, most certainly from when Daniel had peeked inside, and the glow shined through the slight crack in the door. Nisroc slid to a stop in front of the door and threw it open, preparing himself for the worst, the others crowding around behind him.

Hasmal stood in the center of the burning armory, wooden swords for the first years eaten by the flames, steam rising from the metal armor and swords. Puriel's arrows had been eaten by the hungry flames, but he knew the medic of their legion wouldn't care, arrows could be remade.

He was hunched over, flames dancing over his skin, having lost control of his power in this state of sudden panic. The Returned Power clutched at his head tightly, fingers straining as though he would drown out whatever he heard from shear pressure alone, and every twitch he made, every movement, stoked the flames as if someone was blowing into them to feed their strength.

"Titus, Abraxos," he stared straight ahead at the panicking fire cored angel, "Go get Michael."

They didn't need to be told twice, turning and bolting down the hall for the Archangel, all the way out in the training field with the Morningstar, the two of them sparring together as the Grigori trained in place of the Powers that day.

They couldn't enter the room burning with Holy Fire until their Commander extinguished it, being the only other one that had the power of pulling the Holy Fire forth, and in the same instant, pull it back. Lest they be burned in the blazes themselves, no matter how much they were willing to take that risk, it wouldn't do anyone any good. Hasmal was immune to their burn but they were not.

Nisroc knelt slightly, curling his hands around his mouth, calling into the crackling of the fire. "Hasmal!" he watched the younger Power shake his head, clutching at it harder, muttering something to himself that they couldn't make out. "Hasmal! Over here!" he shook his head again, muttering to himself again, hunching tighter and the flames strengthened again. He could remember his younger brother screaming as the darkness cut into him, reaching out in vain for someone to help him as it swallowed him whole, his eyes boring into his own, shining with such terror and horror that it had haunted him even long after he had been returned to them.

_"Hasmal! Look at me!"_

It wasn't just a command as a captain, it was a command as an older brother, they had been raised together and he was three eons older then the younger Power. Hasmal's head whipped in his direction, eyes burning a bright orange as his grace exploded into flames around him, he nodded his head firmly.

"I'm right here! I'm.._We're _not going anywhere! You need to calm down!"

The fire starter shook his head manically.

_I can't._

One couldn't control it when they had a panic attack. It was like they had been pulled from their very personal and became numb to everything around them, the only thing they could focus on was the pure _panicked _state of mind, and their actions coincided with that.

Nisroc shook his head firmly and rushed forward into the flames, a good captain took untold risks for their soldiers, and a good big brother took even more when it came to the wellbeing of their younger.

He distantly heard the others call out to him to stop.

Michael hadn't arrive yet.

"Nisroc!"

"Nisroc, no!"

But he ignored them, hoping over a burning wooden bench, ducking slightly to catch the younger angel around the middle. Forcing him to straighten out as he bent his arms up around his upper back and pulled him as close as he could. Biting his lip, the captain held onto the burning angel with all that he had, swallowing any scream of pain that might try and escape him as the flames burnt into his flesh.

Ignoring the pain in the action, he cradled the back of his baby brother's head and pressed him closely against his shoulder, whispering comfortingly in his ear, trying to calm him down until their Archangel could arrive to extinguish the flames.

"It's alright, you're alright, it's alright."

Burning fingers curled into the back of his tunic, flames scorching his back, he focused on comforting the brother that needed it the most.

"You're alright, it's alright, big brother's got you, you're alright."

The only coolness came from the tears that soaked his tunic where his baby brother curled himself in his shoulder, and he stroked his hand down the back of his head, "Shh, it's alright baby brother, I'm here, I'm right here."

Hasmal was just a bundle of tension, every muscle in his body constricted, "The darkness…..it's back…..it's back….I couldn't…..so _cold_….alone…."

It was the unfelt coldness that had caused this state of panic, the coldness had wrapped around the fire angel, and then the darkness had followed. He had tried to burn the cold away and illuminate the darkness with orange flames

"You're home, you're with me, look," he turned his head around, his hand curling around the left side of his face, "You're right here with me. Big brother's here now." He pressed their foreheads together, numb to the pain of his skin burning, "Big brother is right here."

"Nis…..Nis _let go_!" Hasmal looked panicked as he watched the skin of his older brother begin to blister, trying to shove away from him, but the older angel held him firmly in place. "I'm _burning _you!"

"I can't, I promised I'd never let you go again, I'm going to keep my promise." He gave the younger angel a strained smile, pulling him close again, "But I need you to calm down. This is starting to hurt."

Hasmal could quench the flames dancing over his form, and he did, with slight difficulty, but he could not extinguish the flames dancing all around them. From over his older brother's arm he saw the others standing in the door way.

"Nis…you _need _to let go!"

"Well, I'm not, so you need to stay calm."

A sudden chill overcame the room, overpowering the flames in their place, frost spreading over the once smoldering walls in delicate designs. Hasmal clutched at his older brother's shirt at the sudden _cold _that overcame the room, he whimpered again, clenching his eyes shut as he pulled himself closer to the older angel.

When his skin began to steam again, a cool hand curled around the back of his neck, and he huddled closer to the angel that refused to let him go.

"'Mal, look, it's just Lucifer."

He peeked out of one eye, looking into the familiar ice blue eyes of the Morningstar, concerned eyes looked back at him. The Archangel smiled at him gently, running a hand down the back of his head, cool fingers stroking at the base of his neck.

"Just me." He squeezed the back of his neck lightly, "Just Luci."

"What happened?"

Hasmal knew that voice, it was his commanders, the one who had raised him. Michael stood on his other side, a warm hand pressing between his shoulder blades tenderly, though he knew the question to be directed to the others.

Nisroc's voice rumbled under his ear, "I think he had a panic attack." His arms around his back hadn't loosened in the slightest. "He said there was a coldness, he felt the coldness again, and then the darkness swallowed him."

"You should let him go. You're burnt pretty badly."

"I'm not letting him go."

He knew that the two were staring at each other, he knew Michael would be displeased but understanding, and that there would be a quick jerk of his chin.

"Michael," the Morningstar stood up straight, leaving him staring at his light blue tunic, "Let him be. You remember how it had been for us when Azrael was Returned. It is the same for them."

Michael sighed, knowing he would be fighting a losing battle, he nodded in defeat.

"At least let us help you get to the Infirmary."

He felt Nisroc nod, and they turned, he felt his older brother bend slightly and then he was lifted up in a cradle. The others stepped away as they walked out of the burnt armory, following behind in a caravan of Powers as they made their way down the hall towards the steps to the training field, the Grigori watched them pass in silence.

It was a sad moment for them all when one of the Returned broke down.

Michael sent Puriel and Abraxos ahead to alert the Healer and his healers of their impending arrival, and him and Rahael stood waiting on the edge for them to arrive, the Healer opened his mouth at the sight the burnt arms carrying the Returned Power, and was cut off by a quick wave of the Viceroy's hand.

"Not worth the fight, little brother, just let this one be."

He looked against it, and as though it was against his better judgement, but nodded as he ushered them in. A bed of sterile sheets had already been made up for the Power captain, another just next to it for the Returned, supplies gathered for the both of them at the notice of the situation and their impending arrival.

Raphael gestured to the bed that had been made up for the other, "Set him here, please." They all looked just a bit broken at the whimper the Returned let out at the thought of being let go, it was a whimper of raw fear and utter hopelessness, and it touched them all in the saddest of ways. The Healer stepped forward, curling his hand over his forehead. "We are here, little one, do you feel my hand?" he scratched lightly at his temple, and Hasmal nodded slightly. "Can you feel the shaking of Nisroc's arms?" he nodded again. "He is very hurt, and I need him to set you down, we are not leaving you little one. The others would be more then happy to stay with you."

He looked up to the other Powers, where they crowded around at Michael's left shoulder, and they nodded quickly, stepping around their archangel with agility and ease. Hasmal nodded silently, understanding, though his eyes still darted around as if in search for the darkness to consume him again, and it pained the Healer beyond belief at the suffering they would all continue to live through because of their Aunt's violent temper tantrum all that time ago.

The Healer stopped them all for a moment as Nisroc bent to set the younger angel in the bed, "_Touch _him, physical assurance that you are there," he looked over his shoulder a moment and pursed his lips in deep thought, just minutely, as light as a mist, he could see the steam raising from his fingers and he turned back to the others. "He is still very much on the cusp of combusting again, of another episode of panic, and I do not need that in my Infirmary, no matter how unintentional it may be. So, _touch _him. Make sure he knows you are _physically _there. Make sure he can _feel _you. Your weight and your temperature."

The four Powers nodded quickly in understanding, and he let them pass, watching closely for a moment as they crowded around their volatile brother. Haniel and Abraxos slid in behind him, pulling him down to physically lay against them, Puriel and Titus took to his side, clutching his hands tightly despite the slight heat he knew they must have felt when they did so.

Lucifer and Michael helped ease Nisroc down in the bed beside him, Rahael touched a hand to his shoulder as he passed him to sit next to Hasmal, to speak to him on the matter of what had happened.

Raphael motioned for the other healers to begin undressing the captain, mindful of any parts that may have stuck to the burnt skin, taking in the severity of the burns as they did so. Lucifer stepped behind the captain, drawing his long hair up into a bun on the top of his head, after taking in a female fledgling and raising Kokabiel, he had become quite knowledgeable when it came to handling long hair and putting it up to keep it out of the way.

Michael sat at his captains left side, as to not block his view of his brothers beside him and grimaced at the dark blisters that swelled from his burnt skin.

There were patches that had to be cut around because of their sticking to the burn they covered, and Raphael told them to soak the fabric in lukewarm water before gently peeling the patches off, turning his own attention to the Power's hands.

"You held him." He stated as he tenderly turned his hand over and saw the angry red of the raw skin that was his palm and fingers.

"He is my baby brother."

Raphael spared him a quick glance "I am not faulting you, Nisroc." He frowned at the light nearly silent groan the Power gave when he pulled the ring off his finger in the event that they swelled. "I understand more than you would think the necessity of comforting a younger brother when they are panicking." He glanced up again when Michael stood from his chair, stepping around to whisper with Hasmal, and the Healer returned to his work.

"Ion, cool water and rags."

The healer set them on the cart next to him, and he dampened one of the rags and curled it around the Power's palm, and then around each individual finger.

"Aloe."

The lar mason jar was passed to him and he set it next to the bowl and rags.

He glanced back up at the Power, knowing he would be watching him work, "You know She blinded Azrael, yes?"

Nisroc nodded, "We all heard his screams as She did it."

Raphael hummed. "Though I've restored his sight, he still has moments, especially through the dark of night, where he wakes screaming that he can't see." He pulled the rags off and turned the hand over to examine it again. "My room is closest to his. The terror that you hear makes it hard not to mourn for them. To let them go once you gather them close." He nodded in satisfaction and reached for the jar of Aloe. "I don't let him go, even after he's assured that the darkness that he is seeing is natural and that he will see the world again once the sun returns, I bring him to sleep with me because I can't bring myself to let him go again." He wrapped the hand he was finished with in sterile bandages and reached for the other one. "He is my baby brother." Raphael looked back up at the Power. "Just as Hasmal is yours."

"I couldn't let him go. Despite the damage that may have been caused."

"And." The Healer looked back up at him. "I'm not saying you should have. I would have been more surprised if you _had_. What I'm _saying _is that you are a good older brother, Hasmal needs that, and he could not ask for one better then you." He wrapped the hand he worked on in rags once more, just like he had the one previous, and waited for time to pass. "We made the same promise, to never let them go again, and I am not asking you to. I am not faulting you." He removed the rags and examined the appendage in similar fashion he had done with the last one. "I am commending you, on your heart, and your devotion. Not many would allow themselves to come to harm to comfort a younger brother or sister. But you do. Without fail." He nodded to himself and reached for the aloe once more. "And that is because you are an older brother before you are a captain." Raphael winked at him as he wrapped his hand in bandages. "Which is one of the reasons Michael chose _you_ as his captain."

He pat his leg and made to stand, "Rest for a bit." They both turned to see the volatile Returned drifting into sleep between his four close brothers, under Rahael's surveillance and Michaels standing guard. "He is in good hands."

"I will join them."

"Not for a bit you won't." Raphael pointed a finger at him in warning as he stood. "I know you well, Nisroc, and you will rest there until I say you can move."

"And then I will join them."

"Yes, you will join them when I say."

That seemed to satisfy the captain, and he leaned back in his pillows, swathed in bandages, never taking his eyes off the younger angel laying between his four brothers.

Raphael tugged on his brothers sleeve, and Michael turned to look at him at the slight action, the Healer nodded his head slightly and they stepped away from them just a bit.

"I'm taking him from active duty effective as we speak."

Michael nodded, "I would have whether you said you would or not."

"For a while to come, Michael, I am not clearing him for active duty for a while to come."

The older archangel looked at him for a moment and nodded again.

"We do not know when this will come to pass again, and he would never forgive himself if he had an episode in battle and someone was harmed because of it." Raphael nodded at him, looking just beyond him to the slumbering Returned. "Just a few minutes ago, that was when the steam stopped raising from his hands, he is not well."

"He was still burning."

"On the cusp of it, yes, something has triggered this state, and while he is so volatile, I do not want him to be alone. We do not need another episode to occur and someone _not _witness it. Not only could it destroy wherever he may be, but it could burn him out as well."

Michael looked over his shoulder at him. "He hasn't had an episode as bad as this one since the first week he had been returned to us."

"It's not surprising that he had one though, all of the others still do sometimes; Domiel locks himself in Gabriel's office and he hides under his desk until Gabriel can coax him to come out. Bath Kol and Heman scream just to hear their own screams. And you know about Azrael. They are doing splendidly considering but are still going to have massive episodes."

The older archangel nodded, he knew about Azrael rather well himself, "I would take him with me." He turned back to the Healer. "But I've already got Gadreel."

Raphael hummed, nodding towards the captain, continuing his silent watch of the younger angel even as he slept, even though he himself should be resting. "Give him to Nisroc."

"What of his two charges?"

"You and me both know that they sleep in their own bed."

Michael quirked an eyebrow. "We would not be able to fit another bed in there."

The Healer shook his head. "And I wouldn't want him to sleep on his own, the problem tonight was that he was '_cold'_ and '_alone', _and '_darkness' _overcame him, no, I want him to sleep in bed with another."

"You want him to sleep in bed _with _Nisroc?"

"Yes. Sleeping _with _him would negate all of those triggers. Though he is not a fire core, Nisroc burns warm like a burning ember, should he feel the '_cold' _again, Nisroc's body heat would warm him. The _'darkness' _and being _'alone' _run hand in hand. Having someone close enough to physically touch him or for him to physically touch on his own would bring him back to the reality we live in now."

"I don't know, Raphael." Michael shook his head. "They are not fledglings anymore. I would have to ask Nisroc his opinion on that particular matter."

He looked up when his brother sighed in irritation and exasperation, following his gaze over shoulder, and smiled at them. The others had managed to push the two beds together and they curled together as one massive group, one family. Nisroc pulled Hasmal up to lay against him, not disturbing him from his sleep in the slightest. Rahael may or may not have seen the stream rising from his hands and given him something to knock him out. The others curled in around them, Haniel curling around Hasmal's other side, Puriel taking his free hand again, Abraxos and Titus settling at their feet.

"I don't think that will be a problem for him, brother."

Raphael heaved a sigh and shook his head. "I wish all my patients did as I told them."

Michael smiled, chuckling slightly, "I believe you told him he wasn't to move without your saying so, it doesn't appear he moved himself, he is still in the bed you'd placed him in."

"You know having the others pushing the beds together is cheating, Michael, don't even try that one on me!"

…

"So, he explodes?"

Paul yelped as he was snatched up mid jump on the bed, tucked under one of the Power's arms, Nisroc chuckled softly. "Something like that, yes." He turned quickly to snatch up the other young one before he could manage to poke the still mound curled up under the blanket against the wall, "Don't do that Sasha, you'll wake him."

His youngling pinched his hip, "Please, he's completely drugged out, I don't think an actual explosion would wake him up."

"If you don't calm down, I might just drug you out."

Sasha poked him in the cheek as he turned back towards their bed, "What if he explodes here?"

"He won't."

"How do you _know _he won't?"

Nisroc huffed as he lifted them up so he could drop them down on their bed. "Because I would stop him before he did." He dropped them in place and pulled the blanket's down for them to crawl under, Sasha looked up at him. "Like you stop me when I have bad dreams?" He nodded, "Exactly like that." And pointed a threatening finger at his other young charge. "If you want me to have a go at that little belly of yours, then be my guest, get out of bed." Paul giggled and climbed back under the blankets. "That's what I thought."

He held the blankets up for his youngest charge. "Under you get." Sasha giggled too, climbing under the blankets, curling up against his pillow. "Does he sleep with you 'cause he gets scared?"

Nisroc sighed and sat on the edge of the bed, stroking a curl back from his charge's eyes. "Hasmal went through something bad, just like you did, and he can't be on his own."

"That's why he stays with us?"

He nodded. "That's why he stays with us."

"What happened to him?"

The Power smiled. "What's with all these questions?" and poked the fledgling in the belly. "It's _bedtime_."

Sasha smiled and laid down against his pillow, "Love you, Nis."

Beside him, Paul yawned and curled up under the blanket, his eyes peeking out at them. "Yea, what he said, love you Nis."

"I love you two, too."

The captain dimmed the lamp above them and turned for his own bed, sliding in gently next to the younger angel curled up against the wall, he heard him stir, start slightly, and turned him over quickly. Though the mixture Raphael had sent them home with kept him mostly sedated, especially through the night, he was still on a hair trigger.

"It's alright, you're alright." He eased his younger brothers head down on his chest, "Big brother's here." And rubbed at his shoulders lightly until he felt the tension dissolve. "Go back to sleep."

He smiled when he felt him nod sluggishly against his chest.

"And, I love you too."


	298. Erathaol

The night had taken over the world; both Heaven and Earth, and he sat by candle light finishing up on the paperwork that had made it's way to his desk with the newest trainees from Choosing Day, there had been more then the last time and it brought him the necessity of working late into the night.

A light scratching at his door caused him to pause in his writing, flipping through the sheets of medical documentation that his younger brother had been so kind as to leave on his desk, he was just the most thoughtful of people. But he quickly turned away from it, returning to his work, not turning to look as the lock clicked lightly as it was unlatched and the soft sound of paws crossing into his room echoed in his ears.

"Hello Erathaol."

There was no reply from the hound, though he did hear the soft sound of him jumping up to lay on his bed, and he continued the duty of completing his paperwork before he lay himself down to sleep for the night. Silence settled over them both like a thick blanket, the only noise in the room being the singing crackle of the lit candles.

A small scuffle on his bed caused him to pause again, and when it stopped, he returned to what he was doing, under the assumption that the angel hound was scratching an itch.

More silence, and another scuffle, "Do you have a bit of an itch, Erathaol?" he chuckled in fond amusement as he finally turned to look at the dearest angel hound. The quill in his hand fell to the pages he'd been noting as he jumped quickly from his seat, curling his fingers around the hounds paw, and he frowned at the slick warmth of the fur that he touched.

"What in Heaven are you doing?"

The hound whined pitifully, ducking deep into the blankets, smearing red gently on the archangel's blankets. Large silver eyes looking up to him in terror, as though he was witnessing something the elder wasn't privy to, and concern lit within him like a flame.

"What's the matter, Era?"

Michael softened his tone, kneeling in front of him, stroking his free hand over his soft furry head. The hound whined again, rubbing his other paw over his snout too, over his eyes. He made a saddened sound, a soft saddened hum, and rubbed down his neck. He knew immediately by that gesture what the problem was, it was something similar to the incident that had been had with Hasmal just a month previous, another one of the Returned having similar troubles.

Era gave a soft huff.

"Did the darkness creep up on you, again?"

The hound nudged his hand and he sighed sorrowfully, "Oh, little Era."

He rubbed a hand down around the side of the hounds face. "Is that why you came here?"

A warm tongue licked at his fingers lightly and it was all the answer he needed.

"Come, little Era," he stood and pat his head for him to follow, "Let's get your snout looked over and then we can rest together."

The angel hound stood slowly, jumping down from his bed, and walked at his side as they crossed to the door. They turned to the door next to his and knocked, waiting for the soft call of them to enter, the faint glow of candles coming from the crack under the door gave away to the notion that the occupant was still awake. A soft call bid them entrance, and he turned the handle of the door open, slowly pushing the door inwards.

Raphael looked up at them from the book he had been reading, leaning back against the pillows on his bed, frowning at the sight of the angel hound walking silently at his older brother's side.

"What's happened?"

He set his book to the side, pulling the blankets aside as he turned in his bed, setting his feet on the floor below him. The angel hound came to a stop in the doorway, refusing to move any closer, whining pitifully as he ducked down to lay on his belly. The two archangels watched him for a silent moment, turning to speak to each other softly, their eyes straying to the hound every so often as if to ensure he was still there.

"What's happened?"

The Healer turned to his older brother for answers, knowing that the hound would be less likely to respond, and seeing as Michael hadn't come with him in his other form, it was clear that the youth was unlikely to change back for him as well.

Michael sighed heavily, turning to look at the pitiful hound, "I'm not sure myself, he came into my room while I was going through the files that you had left me," he turned a particular look to his younger brother, the Healer smiled smugly in return. "And he jumped to lay on my bed. I thought it was nothing more then an itch and I turned over to tease him, he's rubbed the skin of his snout completely raw."

"He's rubbed it _raw_?"

Raphael looked over to the hound as well, as though to try and see the damage that had been down and frowned when he couldn't make any sign of it.

"Why on Earth would he do that?"

"Well, I couldn't quite get a response from him," Michael gestured to the hound, "He can't speak to us when he's in hound form."

"I know that you dunce." The Healer snapped. "Did he give any indication as to what caused this self-mutilation?"

"I could only think of one thing."

Bright blue eyes turned quickly towards him. "You think this be the same situation as there was with Hasmal?"

"I had asked him if the darkness had crept up on him, the indication he had given me was inclined to the affirmation, I can't understand what is bringing these sudden episodes on."

Raphael shook his head in the same indication that the reasons remained a secret to him as well, kneeling to sit on his knees, holding a hand out to the hound. Erathaol whined in fright and backed up slowly, covering his snout with his paws, frightened silver eyes watching him cautiously.

The Healer knew how to handle the touchy patients, the ones that needed a bit more gentle reassurance, and he flexed his fingers lightly.

"Come here, puppy."

He nodded in assurance when the hound lifted it's head at the pet name called out to him, and the Healer nodded, flexing his fingers again in a welcoming gesture.

"That's right, come here, you're alright puppy."

Erathaol slowly lifted himself from the floor, he had made mention at one point in the past that the renditions of their shadows in the nightmares of the darkness did not call him by any other name but his own, for how would Aunt know any other name but the one he was given. He walked cautiously over the floor of the Healer's room. A warm hand rubbed into the fur of his neck and he shook his head out, nuzzling into the hand that rubbed at his neck comfortingly.

"That's it, puppy, it's alright."

The hound leaned into him heavily, whining pitifully in his ear, and he wrapped his arms around the hounds neck in the form of a hug that could be managed with him in hound form.

"Let me see your snout, pup."

The angel hound leaned back slightly, looking downwards, letting the Healer's warm hands touch lightly at his sensitive snout. He turned it this way and that, looking it over carefully, and then lifted it lightly to kiss his nose.

"You are so brave, puppy." He whined softly, nudging his hand with his snout, and the large warm hand smoothed his ears back as they rubbed over his head. "Yes, you most certainly are." He kissed his nose again. "Let me get you something to drink."

Michael watched as he stood, the hound sitting where he had been left, watching as the Healer rummaged around the cluttered desk against the window. He gathered up a bowl, poured some cool water into it, a bright purple liquid, and a soft green liquid. Michael raised his eyebrows in recognition, it was the same concoction that had been given to Nisroc before he had taken Hasmal back with him, watching as his younger brother turned and knelt to set the bowl on the floor before the angel hound.

He pointed a finger down to him. "Not a single drop left." Erathaol huffed and bent, leaning forward on his two front paws as he lapped up the cool sweet drink, lapping it up until there wasn't a drop left, just as he'd been told. Raphael nodded in approval as he bent to take the bowl back, petting his head as he did, and Erathaol slowly lowered himself to his belly once more as drowsiness took hold of him.

Raphael nodded in approval. "It'll make you quite sleepy." He got a sleepy huff in reply and it brought a small smile to his face, as he turned to look at his older brother once more.

"I want to make the others aware of this happening. Something is causing the Returned to break down again and I want to know what it is. First it was Hasmal, now it is Erathaol, who next?"

Michael nodded in silent contemplation, arms crossed over his chest loosely, wanting to know the same thing as his younger brother.

"I wish I had the answer. I don't think that Aunt would be coming after them once more, Her and Father have since settled any grievances between them, but it is strange for these occurrences to be happening so suddenly."

The younger archangel nodded in kind, humming to himself. "I want them all watched closely for any sign of distress. Especially Cael, and as it seems, Erathaol." He looked down to the hound lightly dozing at their feet. "I don't want him left alone, not for a moment, if this is what he intends to do when the episodes take place."

"What of his snout?"

He waved it away with a quick wave of his fingers. "There is little I can do with it. It is not too bad. Just some rather deep scratches." He crossed his own arms in thought. "But all the same, they be only scratches now, I don't want to take any chances that he may decide that it's not enough anymore."

"You gave him the same mixture you gave to Hasmal?" Michael looked down to the slumbering hound. "Is it that serious?"

"I gave it to him to ensure he sleeps the night completely through."

He huffed in mock irritation. "You couldn't have done that in my own room."

"You're a _strong_ archangel." His younger brother pat him on the back. "You can carry him back."

…

"Isn't he a bit big to be carrying around like that?"

Michael looked up at the sound of his captain's voice, peering at him from over the angel hounds thick wavy locks, the angel in question had taken to his humanoid form and hung limply from the archangels hip, sleeping peacefully unaware of anything going on around him.

"Perhaps." He rubbed at the younger angels bare back soothingly when he murmured against his shoulder. "But I can't find it in myself to put him down."

Nisroc raised an eyebrow and lifted one of the angel hounds limp arms, looking from the bandaged wrist, to his commander.

"What happened?"

"He started biting himself."

That startled the captain, his eyes wide as he gently let the arm down again, brushing his fingers over the scabs on the youth's face.

"And his face?"

"He'd been scratching his snout raw."

He crossed his arms lightly, the captain and hound had fought side by side in countless battles since he had been returned to their home, and to see him in such a state was alarming.

"All of this while in hound form?"

Michael nodded, "Indeed." And adjusted his hold on the slumbering angel hanging from his hip, limp against his shoulder. "Raphael has given him something to keep him from changing forms. Which is why he is sleeping so soundly. It dampens the power used to change between his forms." He turned to look at his captain. "How is Hasmal?"

The Power nodded, understanding the change in conversation, these arising episodes was enough to startle anyone. "He takes his tonic regularly and sleeps through most of the day or walks with me through the ranks when he has his good days, as you can see," he gestured to his side, "today was not one of those days."

"Who's staying with him?"

"Haniel is with him at the moment."

He nodded, rubbing soothingly at the angel hounds back as he turned to survey the sparing partners, Nisroc chuckled and scratched a few fingers at the hounds shoulder, smiling when Erathaol hummed and settled closer against the archangel.

Michael turned to look at him for a moment before turning back to surveying the partners before them.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing." He pulled his hand back and chuckled again when the angel hound gave a soft whine despite being in his humanoid form. "I forgot he only wore trousers."

It was true, Erathaol wore nothing but loose-fitting trousers, no tunic and no shoes of any kind. He claimed it made it easier to change between forms, and the only one who would know was him, and possibly Anubis who gave the same explanation, but they all thought it was more so for his detest on wearing anything else.

He spent most of his time in his hound form, it often caused most to forget what he looked like outside of it, the only similarity between both forms being his silver eyes.

Erathaol mumbled and shifted, "M'cha?"

"Yes, pup?"

"J'st check'n."

The archangel hefted him higher on his hip and rubbed at his back softly, "Go back to sleep, little puppy." He fell silent for a moment. "Nisroc?"

"Sir?"

He turned to look at his captain. "Keep a close eye on them all. One is a coincidence. Two is not." He adjusted his hold on the sleeping angel and swayed slightly when he felt him shift against him. "We want to know what is causing them to have these reactions."

"You think something may be amiss?"

"I do not know what to think." Michael hummed slightly. "But we have one who self-combusts at the slightest of movements and an angel hound that has taken to mutilating himself, both claiming to being surrounded by the consuming darkness again. We are not taking any chances. Hasmal, Erathaol, and Cael are not permitted to be alone not matter what circumstances may be."

"You don't think Aunt would do that again, do you?"

The was a note of alarm in the Power's voice and he was quick in quieting him, shaking his head in denial. "We do not suspect Her of anything. It is just an odd occurrence that two of the Returned would have these episodes after so long."

There was a long pause of silence.

"Cael?"

Michael turned to look at him. "Yes?"

"Why can't he be left on his own?"

The archangel sighed, it was not something they talked about often, the only ones who knew were the four of them and Father Himself.

"He took to marking himself to keep track of time, we don't know what the marks mean in duration of time passing, and for the longest time he had stopped."

Nisroc waited for the continuation of the silent _'but' _that had come at the end of that statement.

"He came to see Lucifer the other day and had torn himself up badly. It was rather deep. Raphael kept him in the Infirmary for the night to keep an eye on him and only released him when Lucifer said he would keep him at his side at all times." He shook his head in anguish. "He is not allowed to be on his own. No blades, no arrows, just a simple tunic and some trousers." He nodded his head to the angel sleeping on his shoulder. "Just as Erathaol is not permitted to shift forms for the time being. He only does those actions when in hound form. It was how he spent most of his time trapped within Aunt's prison of darkness."

"I will tell the others to keep an eye and ear out for anything."

Michael nodded in appreciation, "We thank you for your helping. It has us on edge, something is causing these violent reactions, and we have not a clue as to what it could be."


	299. Heartbreak

When he turned up one short for their scheduled training with the Powers that Wednesday, Lucifer had to do a recount at least twice to ensure he just hadn't skipped one, until he came to the conclusion that, yes, there _was _one missing. Michael and his Powers waited for him patiently to find out what had happened to his only female Grigori, and he nodded in thanks as he turned for his own Captain, Semyaza met his gaze evenly without faltering.

"Sem?"

He bowed his head slightly in acknowledgement. "Sir?"

"Do you know where Kokabiel is?"

The Grigori Captain nodded, though his expression wasn't one that gave the indication that he himself was sure of what he was about to say. "She's in the Garden."

The Morningstar tilted his head in confusion. "What's she doing there?" he crossed his arms. "We've known about this training for the last month."

Semyaza screwed up his face in disgust and spit at the ground, surprising those who know the passive Captain, "That filthy Pagan she'd been with fought with her the other night. She hasn't come back since."

He stared at his Captain for a long moment, "That _pagan _did something to her?" around them, the others shifted in their places, even the Powers, being the only female to make it into one of the four Legions, they had all become rather protective of her despite knowing the fact that she could handle herself against any opponent.

But matters of the heart could debilitate anyone.

When his Captain nodded, he immediately turned to his older brother, Michael waved him off. "Go. The duty of an older brother far surpasses the duty of a commander." He nodded in appreciation and turned on his heel, opening his rose gold wings, he jumped into the sky.

Michael turned to look at the Grigori Captain, his Powers turning to listen in, "tell me, Semyaza, what is this pagans name?"

…

He found her sitting on her own, on an overturned tree trunk, dark brown hair done back in her usual high ponytail. Her shoulders shook softly, as she curled in on herself, and the faintest sound of a sniffle was caught by his ears. Any possibility of there being any irritation faded away at the faint little sniffle from his tough girl, and he stepped out into the clearing she sat in.

"Mind if I join you?"

She jumped slightly, turning to peer at him over her shoulder, rubbing her nose with the back of her hand as she nodded. Wiping the evidence of her broken heart away with shaking hands, she tried to compose herself, he gave an anguished sigh as he sat next to her on the trunk.

"Sorry." She curled her hands in her lap as she looked back down again, perhaps to hide the tear that slipped from her eye again, but he saw it anyway. "I know we were supposed to train today."

"Don't be sorry." He took hold of her chin tenderly, turning her head to face him instead of her lap, he gave a sad smile at the bloodshot eyes and tear trails glistening her cheeks. "Oh, Koka." He rubbed away the tears still trailing down with both of his thumbs and curled his fingers around the back of her head as he pulled her into a hug. "I'm so sorry."

"I shouldn't be doing this. I'm supposed to be tough. Hard." She sniffed softly. "I'm the only girl to be in one of the Four Legions, for Father's sake, I shouldn't be soaking my _Commander's _tunic with tears."

He hugged her close nonetheless, resting his chin on her soft brown hair, "You're allowed to cry. Especially if someone breaks your heart." He pulled her away slightly, cradling both sides of her face as he pressed their foreheads together. "And you're allowed to soak your _older brother's _tunic with your tears." She stared into his eyes in silence. "_And _as your _older brother _I'm allowed to comfort you, _and then, _kick the ass of whoever thought they could break your heart."

She sniffed, looking as though she was unsure as to what she was supposed to say, and then her eyes teared up again.

"_Luciiiiii…_"

He hummed, like the Healer did, and pulled her back into his arms. This time she didn't restrain herself, in the arms of her older brother and _not_ her Commander, she curled her fingers into his tunic and let out a long-anguished sob. He sighed sadly, curling his fingers around her midsection, and pulled her up to sit on his lap. Guiding her legs around his waist, she curled around him closely, curling her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, she cried into the crook of his neck.

"Oh, Koka." He rubbed at her back soothingly, small soothing circles, "I'm sorry."

"Why?" she hiccupped between a sob, "Why wasn't I good enough?" he rubbed at her back still, curling his free hand around the back of her head.

"Because he was an idiot." He scratched her head softly, "You're _amazing_. Strong, resilient, loving, and so _beautiful_." He set his chin on top of her head. "Anyone who has a brain would see what they had before their eyes. _He _doesn't deserve you."

"It hurts, Luci."

He curled his arms around her and hugged her close, pressing his lips to the top of her head. "I know it does, I know it does little Koka, my beautiful little Koka." He turned his head to rest his cheek on her hair. "I'm gonna kill him."

She giggled wetly, and he smiled at it, a little piece of progress. Kokabiel pulled away slightly to look up at him, smiling despite the tears that shone in her eyes, he smiled down to her in return.

"Don't kill him."

Lucifer chuckled, leaning in close quickly to peck at her nose, smiling when the action still made her scrunch up her face.

"I don't know." He wrapped his left arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him. "He broke my little Koka's heart. Now I just _have _to."

"Luci!"

He dug the fingers of his right hand into her side, and she immediately shrieked brightly, leaning as far away from his hand as she could possibly manage with his arm wrapped around her waist, she didn't get too far, and he reached her side once more rather easily.

"_Fine_." The Morningstar laughed when she pushed at his chest, laughing brightly, though still a tad wetly, as he assaulted her side with the fingers of his right hand. "But I'm still going to kick his ass." He carried on for a moment longer and let up, chuckling when she fell limply against his chest, arms circling around him loosely, and he wrapped his back around her in turn. "Semyaza looked right feral when he told me."

Kokabiel nodded against his chest, still heart broken, but feeling a tad bit better in her older brother's embrace. "You guys can kick his ass."


	300. Cael

"Luci?"

The Morningstar hummed in acknowledgement at the call of his name, not looking away from the hymn he was writing for his choir, humming under his breath the tune that had come to mind for the flow.

A slight shuffling had his writing come to a slow pause, it had been a quite three weeks since Hasmal had combusted and Erathaol had been forbidden from being in his hound form until further notice, and they all waited on bated breath for the other shoe to drop again.

"You told me to tell you if it happened again."

The archangel inhaled deeply, dropping his pencil on his desk, turning to look at the companion behind him in alarm. There was only one he had ever told that to.

Cael stood in the door way to his bedroom, tears streaming down his face, his fingers curled around a red stained blade. His eyes widened at the red tears that dripped down his arms, slowly dripping to the floor underneath him, the Morningstar threw himself forward out of his seat and came to kneel before the young angel, hymns completely forgotten at the red blood that dripped slowly to the floor under them.

His voice shook, almost as much as he physically did. "It happened again."

"Oh, Cael." He took his hands into his grasp as gently as he could. "Why?" he pulled his hands up, turning them over so he could looked over the gashes that had been carved into his forearms, frowning at the depth to them, the younger angel had dug in as much as he could.

"I had to feel again, Luci."

Lucifer gave a sad hum, "Oh, Cael."

He sniffled deeply. "I'm sorry Luci."

The archangel looked up at him quickly, "Oh, Cael, don't apologize." He released one of the hands he held and reached up to wipe away the tears with his thumb. "Don't ever apologize." He stood quickly, stepping quickly to his desk for a clean cloth, and kneeled back down to press it rather firmly to the gash on his left arm and then to the one on his right. "It's okay. It's going to be okay."

Cael nodded numbly, watching him try and staunch the bleeding with shear pressure, words leaving him before he could speak them.

Lucifer looked up to meet his eyes, caressing a free hand around his left cheek, giving him a gentle smile.

"It's going to be okay." The fingers of his other hand curled around his, the fingers that held tightly to his blade, and gently lifted it from his grasp. "I'm going to take your blade, okay?" Cael nodded as his blade was slowly lifted away from his grasp, his older brother reaching behind him to tuck the ornate blade into the leather belt around his waist. "Is it okay if I hug you?"

He nodded, leaning forward against the archangels shoulder when he pulled him into a gentle embrace, sniffing harshly into his older brother's shoulder.

"Okay, we're going to go to the Infirmary, alright?"

Cael nodded again, "Okay." Lucifer smiles at him again and hugs him close to his side as he stood from his kneeling position. The younger angel grips at the back of his tunic with as much strength as he can manage, ignoring the stain he was surely creating on the back of his older brother's tunic, and steps closer when Lucifer pulls him close as though to hide him against his side.

The archangels mind whirled with possibilities, Cael had been doing so good, he had stopped the nasty habit some time after his return to their family's embrace and had even been trusted to have his blade back. And now they were heading towards the Infirmary with one bloodied arm clutching to the back of his tunic and the other wrapped tightly in a red stained cloth, all the progress that had been made had unraveled in one foul moment.

They walked in silence for the Infirmary, the archangel shooting everyone who turned to look at them a particular look that had them looking away once more, no one wanted to be on the bad side of an archangel, depending on who the archangel was, they may find themselves turned over something.

Oren met his eyes upon entry, his gaze quickly moving down to the young angel tucked in his side, the red dripping down thin arms caused his eyes to widen. He tapped his Commander on the shoulder, and the Healer turned to him over his shoulder to see what was the cause for the interruption, as he was busy working on a patient and had told the others to leave him be while he worked on that particular day.

He followed his Captain's gesture and his eyes widened at the sight that had beholden them, gesturing for him to take over the duty he had been taking care of, and stepped away quickly to tend to the new patient waiting for him with his older brother.

Raphael kneeled like the older archangel had, taking hold of the young angel's hands, lifting them slightly to look the gashes over with a keen eye. They were deep, they were meant to be felt, and if he were to judge it by the shiver of the arms he held up, Cael most certainly felt it.

"Oh, Cael." He let the arms go for the moment, cradling his face in his large warm hands, pressing a kiss to his forehead tenderly. "It's going to be alright. We'll get you all patched up again and into bed. It'll be alright."

He sucked in a deep shaky breath. "I'm sorry, Rapha, I didn't mean to."

"There is nothing to apologize for. It'll get better again, I promise, but there is no need for apologies."

Long nimble fingers curl around his shoulders and they guide him to a rather large bed, the Healer pulls the blankets back and guides him to sit on the edge, turning to his older brother for a moment.

"Can you get me a new tunic, and a pair of trousers, there's some in the supply closet."

Lucifer nodded silently, squeezing the young angel's shoulder in comfort as he stepped away to gather what had been requested of him, and the Healer smiled to him softly. "Let's get you cleaned up, shall we?"

He turned for a small basin of water and some cloths, kneeling before him once more, he took hold of his right arm with as much gentleness as he could muster. The Healer dabbed at the gash with a gentleness some hadn't seen for some time, clearing away the red painted over his lower arm, revealing the deep self-inflicted wound. He moved onto the left soon after, clearing away the red with a new cleaner cloth, and upon setting the cloths aside he was able to get a better look at the wounds on both forearms.

They were deep, incredibly so, but smoothly cut. There was no jagged edges, not debris to pick out, just two even deep lines from his wrist up to just under the curve of his elbow.

"Rapha, I'm really sorry." A soft cry turned his head up, bright blue eyes swimming with concern as they met his watering eyes, Cael looked as though he was on the verge of breaking down into extremely distressed tears. "I shouldn't have. I know I shouldn't. I just had to feel _something_. Everyone's going to be _so _mad."

"Hey, _hey_," the archangel wiped the tears that escaped away with a clean cloth, rubbing a finger over his nose, and his thumb over his chin. "No one is going to be mad. I wasn't you fault, we know that, you are far from being in any trouble." He rubbed his nose with the cloth he held. "We'll get you cleaned up, bandaged, and well taken care of. It's alright."

Cael nodded, sniffling sadly, "Can I have a hug?"

Raphael smiled. "Always, little Cael, come here." He stood from where he knelt, stepping forward to sit next to him instead, Cael sniffed pitifully and leaned forward into his older brothers chest. Raphael smelled like the garden, he smelled like ozone from the lightning that he produced from his fingertips, he smelled like the antiseptic from the Infirmary. It was comforting, the smells, the warm weight of his arms curled around him so protectively, the hand that stroked down the back of his head. "It's all going to be alright, okay, everything's alright."

"I feel so bad."

"I know you do." He stroked a hand down the back of the younger angel's head. "But we'll get you feeling like new again in no time. You're going to be just fine. Do you hear me?" he pulled him away slightly, curling the fingers that had been stroking through his hair down around his cheek instead. "You're going to be alright." He leaned forward to stand again, humming softly at the whine that emitted from the younger angels chest at his leaving, and he squeezed the back of his neck soothingly. "I'm just getting some bandages. I'm not leaving you. Not going anywhere."

True to his word, fingers never leaving the back of his neck, the Healer leaned forward to pick up a swath of bandages. Settling back down beside him, he unrolled a portion of the thick bandages, and reached for his left arm with gentle fingers.

Cael watched silently as he wrapped up the deep gash he'd cut into his arm, Raphael pressed a kiss to his palm, hoping to entice even the smallest of smiles from the broken little angel, and felt hope well up within him when there was a slight curve in his features.

That was something they could work with.

"They don't look bad enough to need stitching." He reached for his right arm and wrapped it up just as snuggly as he had the left. "But we'll keep an eye on them just in case."

Cael looked down when his nimble fingers curled around the bottom edge of his tunic. "Let's get you out of the bloody thing." He nodded, lifting his arms for the archangel to pull it up over his head. The archangel tugged lightly on his hands. "Stand for me for just a moment." Cael slowly climbed to his feet, looking down as his older brother gently tugged his trousers down, lifting his right foot, and then his left, as he undressed him.

Lucifer returned as he set the bloody tunic and trousers aside, and he turned to look up at him with exasperation. "Where have you been?"

"You have, like, twelve supply closets and failed to say which one they were in."

Raphael shook his head, shooting an exasperated look back to his younger brother and was rewarded with the faintest of smiles for such efforts, taking the tunic in hand he folded the ends up. "Let's get you into some clean clothes." The soft fabric of the tunic slid over his back and stomach as it was pulled over his head, and the trousers were soft against his legs as they were pulled on, Lucifer sat next to him on the bed as the Healer turned away to mix together a tonic for him.

The Morningstar recognized the color of the tonic as the same mixture that he had given to Nisroc for Hasmal to take on the days he started melting down again, and for Erathaol to take (though tweaked a bit) to keep him from changing forms, he watched as he knelt and held the cup out to the young broken angel.

"Drink it all for me?"

Cael nodded and gingerly lifted it to his lips, surprisingly at ease when the sweet drink touched his tongue, and he downed it quickly. Both archangels caught him when he swayed, guiding him gently down to the pillows, turning him to lay in the bed, and Lucifer pulled the blankets up to his chin as the affect took hold on him just as quick as it did on the others.

Raphael knew what he was doing, and he knew it rather well.

They sat at his bedside silently for a long few moments, until they were sure that he was well and truly asleep, and the Healer turned to his older brother.

"We will never know how lucky we are that he came to you." Lucifer looked over to him in confusion and alarm, his younger brother did not often say such things in such a tone he used now. "They were very deep, he was loosing a lot of blood, they don't need stitching, but I want to keep an eye on him for the night. At least. "

"You're going to keep him?"

Raphael nodded. "For the night." He glanced at his older brother. "I don't want him to be alone, not for a moment, when I let him go."

"I'll take him." There was no hesitation in claiming the young volatile angel under his protection. "He'll come with me."

"What about Akeelah?" The Healer watched him carefully. "He's going to need more attention then you'd be able to share taking care of a fledgling."

"She can stay with you."

"_Me?"_ The Healer shot around to stare at him. "You _think _I'll take her? I come here at sun rise and leave at sunset."

"She spends most of the day running around to only Father knows where and she often comes to help you in the Infirmary regularly. She'll be asleep when you come here and you have more then enough beds to spare one for her to sleep in until she wakes up." Lucifer grinned at his younger brother. "Why, it sounds like you _don't _want to take her in." His eyes took on something mischievous. "It'll break her little heart. She loves you very much."

Raphael shot him a flat look. "You know that's not what I'm saying, don't put words into my mouth, she is more then welcome to stay with me for the time being." He smiled slightly. "I've been rather busy as of late. It'll give me some time to catch up with her. I want to give that belly of hers a rather close checkup."

The both shared a smile at the thought of the bright little fledgling, she was truly a fresh air in these tense times they were faced with at the moment, bringing back a brightness to them at the end of a long day that had nearly been extinguished. Her smiles made them smile and her giggles made them laugh with her.

"I take it you took his blade?"

The moment had passed, and it was back to business.

The Morningstar nodded, watching the gentle rise and fall of the younger angel's chest. "As soon as I saw what he had done." He curled a few fingers around his chin as he leaned to the side in the chair, he sat in. "I don't plan on giving it back for a while yet."

"Good. I don't want him to have any objects he could use to harm himself with for at least the next couple of weeks. I don't want him to be alone, not at all, not when he's asleep, not when he uses the bathroom, not at all. These next few weeks, especially directly following this, he's going to need close surveillance."

"I will take good care of him."

Raphael nodded. "I don't doubt that in the slightest." He watched the careful rise and fall of the young angels chest, leaning back in the chair to cross his arms loosely over his chest. "I'm going to send him home with you with the same tonic I gave him tonight."

The older archangel nodded in acknowledgement. "Have you found anything?" Raphael turned to look at him inquiringly. "I know you were looking into these sudden violent episodes."

"Not yet, I don't want to bring the matter up to Father yet, I fear there may be unnecessary jumping to conclusions if I do." He shook his head lightly. "Though He hides it well, He is still rather upset at Her taking His children captive like She had." And rubbed a hand over his forehead. "I have a few of my Virtues and Rahael looking into it. They also made others aware to keep an eye on the other Returned that haven't had any episodes yet."

Lucifer hummed in acknowledgement. "My Grigori are at your disposal." Glancing to his younger brother for a moment. "Just as I'm sure Michael's Powers are as well. And Gabriel's Principalities."

The Healer nodded. "Michael has given me command over them for the time being, unless he has need of them, they are all quite taken with Hasmal and Erathaol."

"Do you have any inkling of what could be causing this?"

He nodded slightly. "A few, but I will keep them to myself until they come to be proven if I am thinking correctly, there is no need to cause such strife while this is going on."


	301. Trafficking

It had sent Heaven in a tailspin when the fledgling had disappeared, the four archangels dispatched their ranks to find her at once, bring her home safe, as they turned their attentions to the Earth below, diving from the ends of the gates to search for her down there.

Their searches turned up empty handed, and they returned in somber moods. The Morningstar was a mess, without his little companion by his side, he lived for the fledgling, and she lived for him. They were not meant to be apart for so long. He slept in his bed alone that night, staring at the ceiling, his side cold against the outside air as he left the blanket flipped up as though for her to return and jump in to fill the spot.

The Healer had returned from his visit to the ancient world, one made in haste, in the sourest of moods. His rage had cast lightning storms all across the eastern seaboard, power outages were affecting the humans where ever they may live.

It wasn't some three weeks later that word had spread to them that the hunters and their angel had found something, and without further notice, the four archangels and their captains dived immediately for the trio.

"We found them about a week ago." Michael spared the younger hunter a hard stare at his words, "You found two beings and waited a week before alerting us."

"Hey," he held up his hands in an attempt to stay the archangels anger away from him, "We didn't think it was too important."

"So, Winchester, what made this opinion change?"

Sam opened the door to their dungeon and waved in, "See for yourself." They shared a look between them and turned to peer into the danger room with curious nerves, there could be anything beyond that door way, and they loath to admit they were scared for it. They peered into the danger room cautiously, breathing a sigh of relief, though worry still embedded itself in the pits of their stomachs, there sat a young girl upon the single chair within the room, red hair in tangles over her shoulders, mouth wired shut to keep from making a sound. At her feet paced a familiar jackal, dark as night, gold rings curled around long dark ears, a muzzle strapped tightly over the snout.

The Healer was the first to step into the room, kneeling before the raised podium that they sat on, ignoring for the moment the way the girl flinched away from him, "What have I said about pacing?"

The jackal came to a sudden stop, growling deeply behind the muzzle, and turned around ever so slowly, as though stalking ones pray. Golden eyes of the Jackal met those of the Healer, and the ancient hound whined lowly, lowering itself to its belly, crawling forward to meet the Healer.

He held a handout to the Jackal, sighing sadly when a flinch could not be concealed at the gesture, but a silk smooth head pressed to his palm in a moment and he scratched behind his ear for a moment.

"Who has dared muzzle you?"

The lock for the damned thing melted under his touch and he removed it with haste, curling his fingers around either side of the hounds face, pressing his lips to his snout.

"Transform for me?"

The jackal whined lowly and the Healer pressed his lips to his snout once more, "You are safe here. You know my brothers. No one shall harm you again."

It still seemed unsure, but still nodded in agreement, stepping back from the Healer the jackal closed its eyes and a bright golden hue overtook its form. They watched from the doorway, behind the Healer's shoulders, as the jackal transformed into the young Egyptian godling that their brother had taken under his wing. He jumped forward to hug the archangel that crouched before him, clutching at the back of his jacket as though if should he let go he would be stuck in the same nightmare as before, and the Healer hugged him back just as tightly.

"Do you remember Michael?", he turned them, gesturing to the tallest one, and golden eyes followed from where they hid within the folds of the Healers shirt, a hand settled over his head when he nodded, "Can you go stand with him while I look over your friend?"

He hesitated, "Anubis," whatever it was that had shocked the godling to the point of silent terror was horrid to think about, and their missing fledgling only settled that much more in their thoughts and worries, "It is alright. You're safe now."

The godling nodded, "He plays ball with me."

Raphael smiled, "That he does, would you go stand with him for me, I am sure he would not mind you holding onto him." The oldest archangel nodded at the statement, holding his hands out for the young deity, Anubis looked between the two of them, and nodded in trust. He let go of the Healer to clutch at the Viceroy instead, and Michael settled him close to his side, watching just as intently as the Healer moved onto the other.

The girl stared up at him with wide terrified eyes, and he smiled as he would to a skittish little fledgling, "This can't be comfortable." He touched a light finger to her lips and still she winced in pain, shaking her head quickly, it was not something one should do to a siren, sew their mouths shut, it was the cruelest thing one could do to their kind "I can remove them for you." He smiled down to her again when she looked up at him with the biggest roundest hopeful eyes one could ever look at someone with.

She nodded, and he took that as his sign of trust, "I must ask you not to wail when I remove them. We do not have the necessary items down here and these hunters can not be harmed, despite it not being the intention." Again, she nodded to his request, and he took her hand into his as he stood, forcing her into standing with him. She clutched herself close to his side, if anyone could provide protection from anything meaning harm, it would be an archangel.

Michael turned with their young Egyptian charge, nodding to the Healer as he joined them, and each archangel turned towards the hunter expectantly. Sam Winchester seemed unsure, but under the expectant gazes of all four archangel, he had no choice but to lead them back up to the library. Dean Winchester looked up from the book he had been reading, research for their latest hunt, when they appeared in the entrance way and immediately jumped to decline their request.

But they were archangels, they took what they wanted, when they wanted, and thus the hunter went ignored as the Healer sat the young siren in the nearest chair and Sam was quick in getting him a pair of wire cutters, he gave her a particular look, "Now, remember what you promised me not to wail, do I still have your word." She nodded, eyeing the wire cutters excitedly, and behind them the older hunter snorted, "Like we can trust the word of a monster."

Anubis took offence to that statement and had the Viceroy's arm not been curled around his shoulders, he would have surged forward and bit the human, despite the Healer having told him he was not permitted to bite people. Ever. No matter the circumstance. _Ever_. But he'd make an exception for this human.

"Technically speaking, I'm a monster, _human_."

"Don't get me started on you dog boy. We know how to kill godlings, _Anubis_."

He growled, and the arm around his shoulders tightened their hold, "Don't even think about it, pup."

"I wasn't gonna do it!" the older archangel hummed, "I'm sure you wouldn't." he felt the godling turn in his hold to look up at him, "I was just _thinking _about it!"

"Anubis, hush." The Healer interjected before anything else could be said, he caressed the cheek of the siren he was working on, "She's a good girl." And brushed a finger over her nose, "She won't let even a peep of a wail out." She shook her head, staring into his bright blue eyes, the brightest she had ever seen, and he smiled to her gently.

Gabriel, out of all the archangels, he was the one who they most trusted, turned to him "It'll be fine Winchester, Raph's one of the few who can get anyone to agree to anything with a soft word and a gentle touch."

He seemed doubtful, but the Healer would not be deterred as he had already made the claim of freeing her lips, and he curled the fingers of his left hand gently around the back of her head, tilting it upward for a better view of the particular stitching as there was no reason to make it worse then it already was.

"I'm going to snip the first one, you may feel a bit of a tug as I do at first, grab onto my arm." Her slim clawed fingers curled around his lower arm, and he nodded, "If it begins to hurt you just give my arm a squeeze, alright?" she nodded, and he turned to peer over his shoulder, "Anubis, go wash up."

"I don' wanna."

What hound _wanted_ to take a bath?

"Either you can do so on your own, or I can turn you back into a hound and do it myself, the choice is yours."

The Egyptians eyes widened at the threat, it wouldn't be the first threat that was given, and he most certainly knew that the archangel would follow through with the threats, he had on more then one occasion and he always used cold water and scrub brushes. It took the Egyptian only a moment to make up his mind, ducking under the archangels arm, and called over his shoulder "I'll be back."

They stood as sentries behind him as he took hold of the edge of the stitching wire and snipped it, the siren took a deep breath but did not exhale, and he gave the back of her neck a gentle squeeze, "Breath, little one." And thus she exhaled at his soft command. After the snipping of the first one, the others weren't too snig, it loosened the line of sewn wire but she still squeezed at his arm. Most certainly more so out of fear then actual pain, but he made no mention of it, and continued on his way snipping through the wire.

It took little over three minutes for him to snip the fine little stitches and pick the wire curves out of the holes that were left behind, Anubis had returned in that timeframe, washed and long hair damp under the touch and he leaned back into the oldest archangels side upon his return. Michael lifted his arm to allow him to melt into his side, scratching his fingers through his dark damp locks, watching at his brother reached for the bottle of disinfectant that the hunter had given him with the wire cutters. He would have preferred to use his own mixtures that he used in Heaven but one must use what was provided to them.

He sat back as the siren reached up to touch her freed lips, opening her mouth as if to test it, and her eyes sparkled as she looked up to thank the Healer. He waved her thanks away and pat her cheek fondly, "It is of no problem. It was a wrong that needed righted."

They had known of the Egyptians disappearance, of course there was no way for them to know of the siren's disappearance, and with his disappearance being in the same time frame of his fledgling's, Lucifer was the first to break the silence, "What happened?"

The siren was still preoccupied with her mouth being freed from the stitching, but their godling friend turned from his place in Michael's side, "There's someone out their nabbing creatures off the streets and selling them to the highest bidder."

The Morningstar feared the worst, "Did you see my fledgling?" he set a hand on the godling's shoulder, "Did you see Akeelah?"

Anubis shook his head sadly, "No, I didn't, they had me blindfolded the entire time."

"We will find her brother." Michael squeezed his hand in comfort, "And then we will bring down our wrath at whoever has dared to take her."

"A little angel?", the siren spoke with a soft tone, she turned to look at them from over the Healer's shoulder, "With dark colorful wings?"

Lucifer took a step forward, "Yes?"

"I saw her."

The archangel stood over the Healer's shoulder, "Is she okay?" his worry was evident in his tone "Do you know where she is?"

His younger brother held up his hand a moment to stop him short, turning his attention back to his charge "What is your name, little one?"

"Naida." She smiled to the one who had allowed her to speak once more, "My name is Naida."

"Little Naida, will you tell us all you know of the little angel you saw?"

The siren nodded to him, owing him a great debt, "I saw the little angel when they brought me to the meeting place. We were put in the same cage together. She never told me her name, I am sorry."

Lucifer knelt next to his brother, squeezing her knee, waiting until the tension under his fingers released itself, "Is she still there? Do you know the place?"

Naida shook her head, "I do not know the place. They had my eyes covered. I was only able to get the cloth up when they put me into the cage and chained me to the wall like they had the little angel." She turned away from the Healer to look at the Morningstar, "I pulled the chain from the wall and told her to run. They had not closed the gates of the meeting place. She ran through and disappeared."

"You?" Dean Winchester intercepted the conversation, "_You _pulled a chain attach to a stone wall _free_?"

She stiffened in offense, "I could tear you in half, _human_. My people are strong enough to sink man's ships."

"Sirens can lift tons in their arms." Raphael spared the hunter a look over his shoulder, squeezing the girls knee as his attention was turned to the other side, the Egyptian had taken back to his hound form and trotted across the room, butting his head against the archangels right arm. Raphael chuckled, turning to pat the jackals head, "Do you want to lay down?"

The jackal butted his arm again, rubbing it's snout over his hand "You do not want to go alone?"

It shook its dark smooth head, "Alright, I will come with you." Sharp canines closed around his sleeve and tugged it sharply, "Alright, calm down now, we can go lay down."

He turned to the siren for a moment, scratching behind the jackal's ears to pacify him for a moment and it sat at his side silently in acceptance of the ear scratches, her bright eyes stared into his for a moment of silence and he held a hand out to her, which she looked down at with her unblinking stare.

"Why don't you join us, little one, you both have had quite the experience."

That brought her to blink and she glanced up at him from staring at his hand. "I'm not scared. I want to go home." He shook his head passively. "I never said you were, it was merely an offer, a well given suggestion. Rest before the trek home. Gather your strength." She stared at him again and then back down to his hand before she hesitantly reached out to take it with her own. His fingers curled around her petite hand, warm and protectively firm, he stood and carefully guided her up to her feet.

The Healer stood, feeling the jackal rub its head against his leg, "Winchester, I need a room."

Dean scoffed, but Sam nodded, leading him down the hall towards a free room. He returned a moment later, clearly having a question on his lips, and the other archangels turned to him to answer it should he bring it to light.

He did after a moment of silent contemplation.

Gesturing over his shoulder, where he had led the Healer to a bedroom for the two creatures to rest under his guarding, he turned to look at the three remaining archangels in question.

"Just, _how_?" he looked over his shoulder in amazement. "We've met sirens before and their anger can ignite in the slightest of instances. This siren has been captured, taken from home, bound, muzzled, and was almost sold to the highest bidder." He turned back to them. "How on earth did he keep her from lashing out?" he wasn't done yet. "The same for Anubis, he's passive, sure, but even he has a temper. And we've met that temper before."

"Easy," Gabriel waved a hand in the general direction that his older brother had disappeared, "He has Anubis wrapped around his finger."

Michael spared him a look, shaking his head in fond exasperation for the younger archangel, Gabriel grinned and looked down from his gaze.

"Raphael knows how to calm people because of his duty as Heaven's Healer. It comes with practice. He hums as he works because the soft tune calms the nerves of those he cares for, not matter what he's tending to, it's easier to treat someone who doesn't struggle against you then it is the other way around." He rubbed at his forehead. "He can provide a security that is more preceptive to those he tends to then others can provide. He kept the siren at ease with the softness of his tone and the safety he gives off in assurance. He keeps Anubis from loosing his temper very carefully, even he knows what can become of the natural order when the Egyptian deity looses his control, once it is lost it is quite difficult to reign in again. He maintains a certain level of trust with the young jackal and a close relationship to aid in the matter should Anubis loose his temper, in any situation, the Egyptian likes most all persons he meets, but none more than our brother."

Lucifer was muttering to himself, swiping his hands through his hair every so many minutes, looking very much like he'd be pacing had he not been standing between his two brothers. They had met the archangel's fledgling numerous times, and they knew that she was as tough as they come, but she was still so very young and out there on her own without anyone knowing where she may be, no protection available should she need it.

"How old is she?"

Sam Winchester had never thought he'd be making conversation with, attempting to comfort, the one who had caused him so much torment. But Lucifer looked absolutely pitiful.

"She is the equivalent of a human six-year-old."

The seraph, who had been standing guard behind his two hunters, as though he assumed, he could take on the four archangels should things take a negative turn. Lucifer glared at him with all the hatred he could muster.

"I don't want _you_ going anywhere near _my _fledgling."

"I don't see anyone else offering to go and seek the fledgling out."

Michael reached out to squeeze the Morningstar's shoulder in comfort and assurance. "She _will _be found, little brother."

All three remaining archangels ignored Castiel as they called out for others to join them.

They recognized the first one immediately, they had met him numerous times before, standing nearly as tall as the archangel he looked to for commandment. His long dirty blonde hair done up in a loose bun, beard as finely done as always, piercing blue eyes looking towards his commander in the ready for any order he were to give. He wasn't in his battle armor; dawned in a pair of blue jeans, a light blue shirt, leather jacket, and boots, the sword attached to his left hip stood out against the casual human attire.

The second one they recognized as well, not as much as they did the first, much shorter than the others around him, but just as deadly as they came. Dark black hair spiked up with some unseen product, jaw set in a way that told them volumes of what he knew of the situation, piercing violet eyes glaring at the two hunters with a certain amount of heat in it.

The third on they had met only a few times, and thus didn't know him as much as they knew the first two, but they had no doubts he could stand against any of them even on his worst day. His red hair stood on in contrast to his pale skin tones, he stood at the Morningstar's side with ease and comfort, as if knowing that the archangel was running on a short fuse.

The three of them all knew that the fledgling was missing.

Michael finally turned to address Castiel. "I wouldn't say that, Seraph, I can think of quite a few who would volunteer to go in search of our fledgling." He gestured to the three they had called down. "I doubt that Nisroc, Puriel, and Semyaza would have any objection."

Nisroc shook his head, serious in the matter at hand, crossing his arms over his broad chest loosely.

Puriel shook his head in the same manner, resting his hands on his hip, a pack of items unknown hanging across his chest.

Semyaza gave one sharp jerk of his head, crossing his arms in the same manner as the Powers Captain, glaring with a certain amount of heat at the two hunters and their angel friend.

He turned to face the three of them. "I don't care what you must do." He spared them each an individual look. "Just find our fledgling."

They nodded in unison, and the angels in the room watched them open their wings in preparation for them to take their leave at this greatly important mission, they stopped at the raised hand of the seraph.

"I will come with you."

Semyaza growled softly. "I don't think you were _invited_." He waved a hand at him in dismissal. "You would only hinder us."

"A missing fledgling is a matter for the entire host."

"And that does _not _include _you_." He closed the gap between them quickly, poking a harsh finger into his chest. "And you are one to talk, this is the same fledgling you had been willing to torture into submission to your will, not the will of the Host you so speak of." He poked him again, as harshly as he could manage. "You're only wanting to come because Father has been showing distaste to you and your humans for all the bullshit you try and put one of His youngest through."

"Semyaza," the Power called out to him softly, "leave him. Let us go find our fledgling."

…

The met in the middle of a clearing once again, empty handed once again, and the irritation at their lack of success was starting to grate on their nerves. The sun was beginning to set and it would do no good to have a fledgling as young as she was on their own in the dark of earth's nights, especially not with vermin out there trapping supernatural creatures to sell to the highest bidder, they had to find her before the sun set completely or she was found by others meaning her harm.

Puriel ran his fingers through his hair in irritation, a mix of concern in there as well, looking between them both and then settling on his Captain.

"This would be so much easier if we had a way of tracking her."

It took him a moment of deep thinking until it dawned on him, and then for a moment the Captain felt foolishness run through him at his not remembering the little fact that they had. There was a way of tracking her, he was sure of it, and he shook his head at his not realizing sooner.

"Puriel, we have our pendants so that we may be found if we get separated on the battlefield."

The medic Power nodded his head, raising an eyebrow in confusion, Semyaza watched them with just as much curiosity as the other Power spared his Captain. He didn't know the delicate intricacies of the other Legions, they all had the small secrets that was kept between each other, and it came as no surprise that they had that sort of trick up their sleeves.

"I know this, we all do, what does that have to do with anything at the present moment?"

Nisroc shook his head, waving a few fingers for him to listen. "I gave mine to the fledgling when we first met in the Garden."

Puriel and Semyaza turned to him fully, eyes widening in realization, the medic's jaw dropped for a moment in awe at the minor detail that had been forgotten after all this time. They had made the pendants together, intricately lining each pendant with a sliver of their graces, so that they could be tracked down should they become separated from each other in the heat of battle.

"You can trace the location of your grace."

The Captain nodded, closing his eyes as he reached out for it, far and wide until he felt it push back at him. A few minutes passed, he could feel the hopeful stares of the other two as he searched with his senses, and they looked just as hopeful as they felt when he opened his eyes as suddenly as he did.

There was no saying she still had the necklace he'd given her, if she had taken it off previously, or if it had been torn from her in the midst of a struggle to escape her kidnappers. He couldn't track her, he could only track the pendant, and hope that it was still around her neck.

"I know where she's at."

…

The location he led them to wasn't too far from where they had been standing previously, about 7 miles away from their previous location, he had shared with them his concerns that the necklace had been removed or broken in a struggle, and they searched the area with a keen eye for any sight of the pendant among the colored leaves on the ground or the sight of the fledgling hiding somewhere in the vicinity.

He was sifting through the debris just before a small crevice between two rather large boulders when he spotted it, just out of the corner of his eye, it was a rusty piece of metal, hidden well in the shadows of the crevice, a thick link of a chain. Puriel set his hand against the side of the boulder gently, leaning around to get a closer look . The crevice was too small for him to see into completely, but he followed the link in the chain to the next one, until it led him to a pair of tiny toes. He couldn't see the foot, he couldn't see anything else, but he saw the toes. There was the possibility that it was another creature that had been found, but there was no other reason for Nisroc to be able to place them here unless it was for his pendant, and there was no one else who would be wearing it.

Puriel waved at the others from over his shoulder, and they met at his back immediately, as he reached into the crevice as best as he could for the little toes. He managed to give them a slight tug and the foot was pulled way in an instance, a small whimper floated out from within, and it caused them equal amounts of broken-heartedness and anger at the mere sound of it.

"It's okay, you know how I love playing with your little toes, can you come out for us?"

There wasn't even the sound of a shuffle from within the hiding place.

"Come, Baby Power, you know me."

Then there was a slight shuffle, the chain rattled against the stone sides of the hiding place, and bright blue eyes peered out at him from behind an edge.

"Puri?"

He smiled, raising his hand to wiggle his fingers slightly in greeting. "And Nis and Sem." Those cautious blue eyes peered behind him, and the others waved in similar fashion.

"Puri!"

There was another slight shuffle, and their missing fledgling crawled out from the small crevice she'd taken as her hiding spot, struggling to get to her feet when she was free enough to do so, the fledgling jumped into his open arms. He curled his arms around her tightly and stood, turning to the others behind him, smiling despite the touchy situation they found themselves in. The fledgling clutched at him for all she was worth, shaking like a leaf in the wind.

"I've got you, Baby Power." He rubbed her back soothingly. "I've got you, it's alright, I've got you."

She reached for her ankle, the one that the chain links hung from, despite the hold he had on her.

"Puri get it off." Scratching at her ankle desperately. "Get it off."

He nodded to her request. "We'll get it off, I promise you, we'll get it off." Brushing a hand over her dirty braids, he turned her around to face him. "Let me see you."

Her eyes were bright when they met his, bright with fear and the adrenaline of the _'fight or flight' _instinct, and he brushed his thumb over the dark bruise under her eye just above her cheek bone. There was a deep slice on the corner of her lower lip, as though she had bit it harshly during a fall or something sharp had cut it, little cuts and scrapes littered her face and neck, a glistening knot on her left temple indicating that someone had either struck her harshly or she had hit her head on something rather hard.

So many wounds to be concerned over and he was only looking at her face.

"I'm going to give you to Nis, okay?"

Akeelah seemed alright with that, even reaching out for the Power Captain, and he happily took her into his arms. Lifting her up and away from the medic's grasp, settling her on his arm, he held her tight and he held her firm, ensuring that she knew she was safe within his grasp. She laid her head on his shoulder as the adrenaline began to wear off and he curled his free hand over the side of her head.

"You're safe now, Akeelah." He whispered in her ear. "No one will ever take you from us again."

There was a part of them that almost wanted some of those who took the young ones from the supernatural world for selling off to show themselves in that moment, the took the youth because they wouldn't _dare _and attempt to take the grown. Facing three of Heaven's finest trained soldiers would be the last thing they ever accomplished.

"I know Nis." She looked up at him slightly, tilting her head upwards against his shoulder. "Its safe now."

He nodded in return, kissing her temple carefully.

She kicked her leg up again. "Puri, get it off." The Power medic caught it as it fell back down, and knelt slightly to look it over, clicking his tongue softly as he twisted her foot around, looking over the raw skin around her ankle. It was clear that she had tried to force it off herself, tearing the skin of her ankle in the process, and when that didn't seem to work, she resorted to trying to scratch it away.

But he promised to remove it, and that was a promise he was intending to keep, even he didn't like the idea of her being trapped anymore then she already had been.

There was a manacle clasped tightly around her red raw ankle, which would have prevented her from being able forcefully push it off, the ones who had kept her prisoner had wanted to make sure she would never have managed to free herself.

They clearly hadn't thought that a siren child would be able to snap the chain that held her captive to the wall.

On the back of the manacle, keeping it securely shut, was a human made padlock. He rubbed his hand over her lower calf, looking up to meet her eyes, it saddened him to see the fright and sorrow that shone in those normally excited and happy blue eyes.

"I need you to calm down for me, you're so tense, you need to calm down. Alright?" she nodded to his request and little by little he felt the tension in her leg fade away, it didn't go completely, but enough that he could bend her foot in the position he needed it to be in to free her from her cuff. "I need you to be as still as you can be now, okay?" she nodded again, little fingers curling into his Captain's shirt.

Puriel gripped her ankle, grimacing at the whine it produce, and curled the fingers of his other hand around the padlock. The human crafted device was enough to keep a weakened youth captured, most certainly a human too, but stood no match against a grown angel, and it snapped as though it were a mere twig when he yanked it away from the ring on the back of the manacle. With its lock gone, the manacle fell freely from the fledgling's ankle to the ground under him, where he let it lay.

He rubbed a hand over the sole of her foot, scratching a few fingers into it, and looked up to see her small smile at the feeling it brought.

"I'm going to fix up your ankle, alright?"

She nodded silently. "Okay, Puri." He smiled at the sound of her voice and the fact that she was as responsive as she was being. Turning to the pack he carried with him, the medic sifted through his bag for the items he was looking for, fishing out a blue jar and some bandages. He set the bandages over his thigh and scooped some of the thick mixture from the jar, rubbing it into the raw skin of her ankle, scratching a few fingers of his free hand over her sole again when she gave a soft whine. There was a soft giggle, a nearly silent little thing, but they all heard it. He wrapped the bandages around her ankle securely and smiled up at her.

"All done."

Akeelah returned the smile in kind, kicking her bandaged leg again, clearly happy that the cruel thing had been removed from her person.

Reaching into his bag again, he pulled out a few cloths, draping them over his Captain's other shoulder, Nisroc snorted in amusement. The medic pulled out a small brown jug from within his bag and took one of the rags in hand.

"Let's get you cleaned up, Baby Power."

He started first with her knees, skinned red from falls and climbing through the forests, perhaps even when she crawled into her hiding spot. Then moved on to her hands, cleaning away the debris and dirt from the skinned little palms, wrapping both in soft bandages as he went. Then he turned his attentions to her face and head, dabbing at the glistening knot on her temple, and then to the various cuts and scrapes, finishing with the deep cut on her lip. Puriel examined that a bit closer to see to the matter on whether or not it would need stitching.

Humming under his breath, he dug through his bag for a numbing agent and needle and thread, the fledgling whined at the sight of them as the Power pulled them from his pack.

"I know you don't like it." The medic gave her an encouraging smile. "I'll be done really quick." He rubbed a bit of the numbing agent on her lower lip, on either side of the split, and dropped it back into his bag. "You hold onto Nis, okay, it'll be really quick. Done before you know it."

Akeelah did as he suggested, curling her fingers into the Captains shirt on the front side, and the leather jacket on the back, nodding when she was ready.

The numbing agent did as it had been intended to do, the fledgling flinched in discomfort, but only felt a slight pinch as the needle weaved in and out. Three stitches later, he pulled the thread taught and knotted it before snipping it free, tucked in back in its leather pouch, and stuffed it back in his pack.

Puriel rubbed his hand over her arm. "Do you wanna go home now?" he smiled at her nod. "There's quite a few people who are waiting anxiously to see you again."

"I wanna go home, Puri."

He kissed her softly on the cheek. "Then let's get you home."

…

"Akeelah!" The Morningstar rushed from his brothers sides at the sight of the little fledgling. "Luci!" she squirmed in Nisroc's arms to be set down, and the Power bent over to set her on her feet, watching her run down the aisle of the Infirmary for the second oldest archangel.

Lucifer bent as they met, lifting her up into his arms in one foul swoop, clutching her tightly to him. She latched onto his front, like a baby monkey to it's mother, wrapping both arms around his neck and both legs around his waist.

The others smiled at the sight of guardian and charge being reunited again.

"I've been so worried about you."

He twisted them from side to side, holding her as close as he could possibly manage, and she clung to him just as closely, savoring the safety of his embrace. No one would dare to stand against an archangel. No one.

"It was scary Luci!"

The Morningstar rubbed a hand over her back. "It's okay, your home and safe, no one will ever take you from us again."

He turned, thanking the three of them from over his fledgling's shoulder, they nodded in turn. It was no skin off their noses, they all wanted the fledgling back home and safe and sound where she belonged too, it was their pleasure to be the ones to deliver her to them.

Turning, the second born archangel rejoined his brothers. Michael smiled to the fledgling, rubbing a hand down the back of her head, and from his right side, Gabriel pet her little hands with a few fingers. On the other side, Raphael stroked her cheek lightly, whispering to her questions they were not privy to.

The oldest archangel stepped away as his brothers turned in the direction to the Infirmary's washroom, coming to stand before the three of them. "Thank you for finding her." He turned to look over his shoulder. "Take your Legions. I want you to find whoever dared take her from us and destroy them."

They exchanged heated glances. "With great pleasure, sir."


	302. Stories

"You wanted something?", Gadreel asked. He was shirtless and sitting on his bed. He hadn't expected anybody to enter at that moment and hid his surprise well behind a mask of practiced aloofness. Michael's eyes travelled over the beaten skin, the etchings and the raised lines of whip marks, the Sentry's back was littered with the scars.

Evidence of his living through actual hell.

The evidence of his greatest mistake, one of many, a haunting reminder.

"Michael...?"

The soft call had him shaking himself free from his thoughts, stepping away from the doorway and into the bedroom entirely, the Sentry turned to face him completely. It was a hard task to do, the scars curled around his side, folding over his stomach and chest. A spider web twining over from front to back. He couldn't take his eyes off of them.

"I wanted to see how you were doing." The Archangel spoke to him but stared at his chest. "You haven't been seen for some time."

Gadreel sighed deeply, crossing his arms lightly over his chest. "They stare at me." The archangel's eyes shot up as his face heated with shame at being caught doing the same thing that caused the retired sentry to retreat to the room that he'd been given in the archangels villa. "More precisely, they stare at my scars. It doesn't bother me most days. But," he looked down a moment, "Sometimes it gets to be too much." His tone took on a sadder note and it only served to make Heaven's Commander feel the immense guilt at the knowledge that he was the cause of it all. "Like, they see the scars, but don't see me."

"They are nothing to be ashamed of."

The younger angel gave him a particular look, it caused him to smile slightly, and stepped by him to sit on the edge of the bed.

"They tell a story." He frowned sadly. "A horrid story." Gadreel turned to look at him. "One that you came out victor of."

"There is no victory in this."

Michael looked upwards for a moment, as the sentry turned to look to the side, his mind clearly swirling with thoughts upon thoughts. Hesitantly, he reached up, tracing his finger over a long thing scar that ran over the sentry's lower belly. The reaction was immediate, he jumped around, eyes widening in surprise, and at first the archangel had thought he'd caused the abused angel more pain.

But there was something in his eyes that told him otherwise, and he reached forward to trace his finger over the scar again, this time the reaction was more physical. The sentry smacked his hand away and stepped back a step, it brought a small smile to the archangels face, and he stood to follow him.

"Please stop doing that."

He retracted his hand slightly. "Am I hurting you?" though he doubted it but the familiar reaction he seen from plenty from being an older brother for as long as he has been. Gadreel shook his head, curling his arms around the place he had traced along, looking up to meet his eyes. A smile slowly spread over his features at the look he was given, and he leaned forward on his elbows, reaching out to brush a finger over a scar swirling over his side.

"Oh, little 'Reel, even after all this time?"

"Sir," the sentry started, "Please, I am too old."

The archangel shook his head slightly, reaching out again. "I am only called _'sir' _on the battlefield, something on which we are not, and something of which you will never see again." His fingers curled around the scarred sentry's wrist and tugged him forward. "And as your older brother, I am saying that you are most certainly wrong, you are never too old."

Gadreel let out an undignified yelp as he was pulled forward, stumbling over his feet at the sharp yank, tumbling forward against the archangel sitting on the edge of his bed, scrabbling for the tunic that lay on the other end of the bed. Arms wrapped around his waist, as he struggled to reach for the end of his bed and pulled him backwards to lay haphazardly on top if his archangel. They struggled for some time, the sentry trying to pry himself free and the archangel grasping him tightly to himself, and it was the archangel who inevitably managed to get the upper hand. He curled an arm up and around his left arm and pulled it away from his side.

Using the fingers of his right hand, he traced the lines of the scars curling over the side that had been uncovered, and at the feeling of it, the sentry struggled to free himself. The fingers stopped their gentle tracing and dug in so suddenly that it caused him to let out an undignified shriek and throw his head back into the archangel's shoulder.

"All I'm doing is tracing the story." The same fingers dug into the side of his lower belly and he jolted. "But if you want to keep struggling to free yourself then I can give you a reason to." Five fingers wiggled into his belly again and he snorted in withheld laughter. "You pick the one you want."

Michael chuckled against his ear when the struggles came to a sudden stop, nodding in acknowledgement, his chin rubbing against the side of the younger angels head. "Good choice, 'Reel." He dug his fingers back into the side of his belly again one last time. "If you pull against me again this is what you'll get." He knew from experience that the sentry's lower belly was rather sensitive and smiled at the sound of laughter being choked into stifled silence. "Is that what you want, 'Reel?"

The sentry shook his head quickly, his struggles ceasing completely, and the archangel chuckled lowly as he went back to tracing his fingers over the raised scars. Gadreel struggled to no struggle against the tingly feeling of fingers tracing over his skin lightly. He bit his lip when the fingers came to trace the scars winding over his belly. Michael smiled when he felt the sentry's muscles tense up in his strain to not tug to free himself.

"I can't imagine how hard this must be for you." He traced his fingers over his lower belly and the sentry couldn't stop himself from jolting, yanking desperately at his arm, regret coming immediately after when the fingers tracing over his lower belly dug in again. "Oh, I can't believe you changed your mind."

Gadreel couldn't stop it this time, he gave a bright fledgling like shriek and fell into boisterous laughter that had been silence for far longer then it ever should have been.

"That's good." He released his grip on the sentry's left arm and dug those fingers into the other side of his lower belly. "You could use a good laugh."

"Sihiihir!"

"No, no, no," he gave his sides a few good squeezes and returned to his lower belly. "What did I say?" the younger angel shrieked brightly and pressed himself closer to the archangel underneath him. "What's my name, 'Reel, what's my name?"

"Sihihi—_Mihihichahaha!"_

"Very good, 'Reel, I'm so proud of you."

Fingers curled around his, but didn't inhibit in the slightest, and the sentry snorted in laugher.

"Pleheehehease!"

"Alright, I keep on for a bit more, because you asked so nicely."


	303. Broken Trust

After weeks upon weeks of having their plans pushed to the side, the plans they had made a month in advance, the naturally happy messenger finally met the end of his ever lengthy temper. Nearly a month and a half since the date they were supposed to spend some good quality time together, and having those plans pushed to the next weekend (and the next and the next and the next), for the favor of spending time with those pagans, he finally lost it.

Now, he wasn't meaning to sound selfish, he knew that his master hadn't gotten to spend much time with his pagan children, and he was happy that they were able to get together like they did after such a long time. But what annoyed him was making plans on a date he _knew _he already had plans on.

The messenger took it, grit his teeth as he was told constantly that they'd get together the following weekend, every weekend that followed, and nodded along to it.

So catching him with his fleabag son nearly a month and a half after the day they had originally planned on getting together to spend the day with one another, his temper finally snapped.

"Why don't you just go _live _with them!" he snapped at long last. "You clearly prefer _them _over your own _flock!_"

Gabriel blinked in surprise at the unusual outburst from the excitable messenger.

"I mean, _none _of us thought you'd _stay _this long anyway, and we sure as _hell _didn't think that would be the _last _time you abandoned us!" he jabbed an accusatory finger at the Messenger. "So just _go_! We survived _last _time! No thanks to _you_!"

"Zaveriel—" The Messenger stared at him in shock.

"So just go!" the younger messenger waved a hand in dismissal. "None of us will _stop_ you! If _you_ don't care enough to be with _us, _then why should _we _care enough to stay with _you_!"

Again, the Messenger blinked in the shock of it all, it was rare for his excitable Captain to get so irritated. "Zaveriel—"

He watched with wide eyes as the messenger reached heatedly for his hand, tore a ring off his finger, and threw it down on his desk in a rather heated fit of anger.

"I _never _should have trusted you! I was a _fool _to believe your word meant _anything_!" his Principality Captain stepped back. "I revoke my _title _of _messenger_! I refuse to serve under _your _command! Go ahead and _leave_, it's all your _good _at!" and he turned to storm out of the office in fuming silence.

He stood quickly as he retreated, meaning to call out, but he had disappeared before he got the chance to. Instead, it left the office in an uncomfortable silence, as he looked down at the ring that had been thrown so angrily on his desk. Gabriel picked it up delicately, holding it between two fingers, he blinked in surprise, and closed it in a fist.

"Fen?" his pagan son looked up at him at the call of his name. "We'll get together another day, kiddo, I have something I need to take care of today."

"That's fine, father, I will talk to you at a better time."

…

"What did you do?"

That was not the greeting he was expecting when he entered his brothers Infirmary, knowing that the first place his runaway Captain would go was to his older brother, Raphael was still one of the few that the young messenger trusted without question. There was no doubt that he would have come to the Healer after his unusual outburst.

Gabriel ignored the inquiry from the older archangel. "Do you know where Zaves is?"

They fell into step. "I do." The older archangel nodded. "Do you?"

"Raph." He glared at his older brother. "I'm so _not _in the mood."

"Oh, I can imagine so." Raphael came to a halt, and with him the Messenger came to one too, turning to look down at him. "From what I heard of it, it was quite an extraordinary outburst, he was rather heated at you."

"Would you just tell me where he is, please?" The Messenger huffed in irritation. "Spare me the lecture."

The Healer narrowed his eyes slightly in warning, but nodded to the request, if Gabriel thought he was the one with the right to be angry then he'd spare him the lecture as he requested.

"Very well, I'll _'spare you the lecture' _as you put it." He crossed his arms over his chest and stood to his full height. "Zaveriel requested to come back to my flock, and without hesitation, I granted his request." The older archangel leaned forward. "Therefore, you have no right to question me on his whereabouts, _I_ am his master now, and as you are no longer his master you don't need to be privy to that information."

"He…He wouldn't _leave _me like that."

Raphael raised an eyebrow, gesturing to the ring he held in his hand. "I believe he has." He hummed lightly. "You truly have no idea how lucky you were."

His younger brother gave him a confused glance, not understanding what he meant by that, so he elaborated.

"This isn't the first time he's come to me with that request." He nodded at the younger archangels surprise. "Oh, indeed, it's not the _second_ time either." He held up three fingers. "It's the third, and this time I could think of nothing for me to say to talk him out of it, so I accepted."

He turned to walk away, as though that was the end of the conversation, but his younger brother took hold of his arm and yanked him back around. The older brother looked down at the hand curled around his arm, and then to the owner of it. "If you _don't_ want to feel _my _anger then I suggest you remove your hand."

"Tell me where he is."

"I already told you, you don't have that right anymore, he is under my command thus I am the only one who needs to know his whereabouts."

"I'm _not_ in the mood, brother."

Raphael smacked the hand from his arm. "I don't very much care _what _mood you are in." The Healer was not easy to anger, but the Messenger had managed it, anyone who harmed those he cared deeply about could manage it, and Gabriel had broken the young angels heart too many times for him to let it slip by this time. "You are a _fool_."

He pointed a finger in the Messengers face. "Zaveriel is much more resilient then you could ever hope to be. You left him once, in the dark of the night, with no word and a flock to run. He nearly fell apart, but he pulled himself together to lead _your _flock. He came to me after your return requesting to be accepted back into my flock, and I, being your _kind _older brother, talked him into staying under your command." When he took a step forward, the Messenger took one back, going cross-eyed at the finger in his face. "He barely began to _trust_ you once more, when you left him _again_, no word, no warning, nothing but _silence_. This time he did break down. He _destroyed_ your office. _I _was the one to come for him. _I _was the one to hold him until he sobbed himself into unconsciousness. _I _was the one who cared for him in the days following when he fell into a depression. _I _was the one who led your abandoned flock. And, _I _was the one to convince him to give you another chance."

Gabriel stared at his older brother in awe. It was rare for the passive Healer to lose his composure.

His older brother glared at him. "He doesn't _trust _you. Not after you promise to stay and inevitably leave again." He jabbed him harshly in the chest. "The two of you were meant to get together nearly _two months _ago to spend time together. It had been _planned_ well in advance."

He tried to defend himself. "I was spending time with my _kids_!"

"And that's nothing to be faulted for." The Healer shook his head. "But making plans for a date you _know _you _already_ had plans on, is. And to continuously promise to do so the following weekend and come back with the same end _every_ time is something to be faulted for. Continuously pushing aside someone who _already _doesn't trust you is causing more damage than can be fixed, Gabriel."

Raphael took a deep breath to try and reign in his temper once more. "So, I ran out of reasons to give in my attempts to convince him to give you another chance, and this time when he asked, I granted his request." He sighed sadly. "You lost nearly two thirds of your flock because of your second time leaving them. And even then, I convinced him to stay. I would have thought you would have learned to care more for your flock."

"I do care for my flock!"

"Clearly not _enough_!" the Healer waved his hand in the direction of the Aerie. "Or you wouldn't have one-third of your flock left under your command!"

"I made a _mistake_!"

"No." his older brother's hand cut through the air in a slicing motion. "A _mistake _is only one occurrence. What you did was a _failure_. You _failed _your flock the second you left, _again_, without a single word." His eyes were sharp as the older archangel looked down to the younger. "Gabriel, I can't be angry at you for wanting to spend time with your children, but I can be angry when you turn your back on your flock. And that's what you did, you turned your back on Zaves, and he got tired of it. He held onto your word of _'next weekend' _for nearly _two _months to have his hopes destroyed every weekend for two months."

Raphael glanced him over entirely. "So, I granted his request. And it's a grant that I won't rescind. Unlike you, _I _take care of my flock, _I _care for them, thus they trust _me_." He started to turn away to return to walking through his patients. "_I _care for those of other flocks. _They _trust me. _I _put their needs and hearts above _my _own." He stopped a moment more, sparing him a glance over his shoulder, in preparation to leave the Messenger as he had wanted to be-. "And when I _promise _to spend time with them, I _keep _my promise. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a broken heart to mend." -_Alone._


	304. Round

"Akeelah," his fingers snatched her arm as she passed, their squad on their way to the training field to have one on one training with their Mentor and tugged her out of the line into the crevice of a doorway he had claimed as his hiding place. "What's _wrong _with you?"

The female trainee took on a mildly offended expression and yanked her arm free from his grasp. "_Nothing's _wrong! How could you _say _that!" Her tone led him to believe otherwise, he heard the nervousness that was well-hidden in there, and waved a hand to calm her down.

"I didn't mean anything by it." He tilted his head for a moment, "It's just….._Somethings _changed with you and I'm worried." He gave her a look. "Sorry for being a good friend."

When he made to step around her, guilt swelled from within, and she took hold of his arm this time and tugged him back into their hiding spot.

"Fine! _Fine! _But you have to _promise_ not to say anything! I won't tell you if you don't promise!"

Sasha looked confused for a moment, but nodded, nonetheless. "I promise."

She didn't look convinced though, staring into his eyes imploringly. "You have to swear on it. On our friendship. If you tell we'll never be friends again."

He didn't quite understand what could be so important as to put their friendship on the line.

Sasha nodded without hesitation. "I swear." He leaned closer. "Now _tell_!"

Peering down one end of the hall, and then the other, as though to ensure they were alone, she turned back to look up at him. She hated that he had grown so much taller then her. She as so short.

It took a moment for the message to register, as she pressed a hand to her stomach, but when it had, his eyes widened almost comically wide.

"_You're—"_

_"Shh!"_ she smacked him in the stomach with the back of her right hand, giving a hesitant nod, Akeelah made a particular expression. "I _think_."

"How can you _'think' _you are!"

"It's not exactly a common thing for me!" she glared at him slightly. "_Sorry_!"

"We need to tell—"

"No!" She smacked him in the stomach again. "You _swore_! We _can't _tell _anyone_!" she shook her head quickly. "Not Lucifer. Not Nisroc. Not Raphael or Gabriel. And _especially _not _Michael_!"

"We have too—I mean should you even still be _training _if you are?"

Akeelah gave him a hard stare. "We're _not _telling _anyone_."

"Does _he _know?"

She nodded, and that seemed to relieve him, but still he gave her an imploringly concerned glance. "Is he upset?"

"I don't think so. He hugged me really tightly and cried a little. I think he was happy." Akeelah shrugged. "I mean, he hasn't told me to never come back, we're getting together tomorrow too."

"We have to tell Paul! And Zaves!"

She thought on it a moment. "Okay. But _only _them."

The sound of heavy boots hitting the stone hallway silenced their conversation, and they peered around the corner of the doorway they stood in, meeting the bright blue gaze of their Mentor.

"Is everything alright?" he frowned as he approached them. "It's not like you two to be late."

The two friends exchanged quick looks and nodded in unison.

"Everything's fine, Nis, you worry too much." Akeelah curled her arm around Sasha's and tugged him forward with her. "Sorry we're late!" She called over her shoulder as they stepped around him and ran for the exit to the training field.

Nisroc raised an eyebrow, turning slightly as they ran passed him and watched them take the stairs two at a time until disappearing from his sight, his hands resting lightly on his hips.

"What on Earth?"

…

It wasn't long until they knew for sure if she truly was or not, when her tops stopping fitting right was the only indication that they needed, her belly was getting bigger little by little. They managed to keep it a secret from everything, save Paul and Zaves, and it was quite an accomplishment.

"Akeelah, we're going to run out of ways to keep hiding it!"

Sasha had stayed behind in the washroom for her to finish, their squad having just returned from one on one training once more, and he sat on the stone bench with his back facing her as she stepped out of the water, he heard her cross the stone flooring, and turned when she said she was covered. He turned to look over his shoulder first just to make sure, and then turned to face her completely, staring at the slight bump to her belly.

"I'm honestly surprised no one's noticed yet, myself!"

"We're still not telling, Sasha!" She leaned closer. "You _swore_!"

"I'm not going to have too! You're tunics don't fit anymore! They'll find out when you're not wearing a top!"

She groaned in acknowledgement, he was right of course, she hated it when he was right.

"Give me one of _yours!"_

"What?"

Akeelah reached for his hand, curling it over her belly softly, and he sighed in resignation.

"Let me use one of your tunics."

"Okay." He smiled, curling his fingers around the bump, looking up at him with curious eyes. "Have you found out what it is yet?"

She smiled and shook her head. "Not yet. Konsu was going to take me to see Isis on the next day of rest." Akeelah looked down to her belly. "I hope it's a girl, though."

Sasha smiled at her. "Have you thought of a name?"

"Lyra."

"What if it's a boy?"

"Izar."

"It's pretty." He leaned forward to kiss her belly. "And _she'll _be pretty too if she's anything like you."

"Guys?" they both looked around to the entrance, Paul stood looking on them, concern having taken over his features. "Everything okay?"

They shared a smile and nodded to their older friend, Paul smiled in return and nodded, he stepped in a bit to close the door behind him. The Power's were all about with their trainees and the last thing they needed was one overhearing them.

"Nis want's to see everyone on the training field."

Sasha nodded, standing quickly, setting a hand on his friends shoulder for a moment. "I'll be right back with a tunic." Akeelah nodded and watched him jog off to get the item requested.

Paul stepped aside to let him pass, jogging forward to join her as she tied the sash around her waist to keep her trousers up, she giggled when he squatted in front of her to press both of his hands to her belly.

"How's my little niece or nephew doing?"

She laughed. "I think they're okay?"

He looked up at her with concern. "Do you feel bad? I can get Puri—"

"No! No." she curled her hands around his. "I feel fine. A bit tired. But we just finished training too. Everything's fine."

Paul frowned a bit but nodded. "You know, they won't kick you out of the flock if you tell them, you won't be demoted either."

"You don't _know _that, Paul." She sat on the bench heavily, leaning forward on her elbows as best she could given her small frame and her growing belly, and he sat next to her to rub her back. "I want to be the first _female _Power. They could, I don't know, think I'm not strong enough anymore."

"You know that's not true. Nisroc is always watching you, and Sasha, and a few others. He's impressed by your skill."

She huffed, and he grinned, poking her in the belly. "Don't be so sad, 'Keelah, it's not good for the little one."

The young lady giggled lightly and waved his hand away from her before he could poke her again. Sasha joined them in the next moment, breathing heavily, and fell back on the bench as he passed her his tunic. Turning away from them, she let her towel drop, curling the leather straps over her chest and pulled the tunic over her head. It was too big for her, she swam in it, but it hid the bump of her belly in it's folds and that was all they needed it to do.

"Okay, how do I look?"

They watched her as she tucked the ends under her belt and turned to show them, they both nodded, there was no sign of her slightly protruding belly.

…

"Akeelah, can you take the spears back to the Armory?"

The female trainee nodded to her Mentors request, stepping out of line to gather them up, bending slightly, grimacing as she did. Sasha's shirt had been exchanged for one of Paul's, as her belly just kept growing, they were running out of tunics to give at this rate.

Pressing a hand to her hidden belly, she tried to squat instead, bending was becoming too hard. There was soft whine, almost inaudible, of pain as she struggled to bundle them all up.

"I got it!"

Sasha broke the line in a quick instant, catching Nisroc and Puriel's attention, and ignored their confused stares as he bolted across the way to gather up the spears. Akeelah was huffing, and she silently thanked him, he jerked his head in a nod.

Nisroc crossed his arms loosely over his chest, watching as the two friends exchanged a quick word, and Sasha stood with the spears in hand.

"Give them to her, Sasha, she is more than capable of carrying them."

"I can do it! I'm capable too!"

Nisroc stepped forward, Puriel at his side, it was not like Sasha to talk back in such a manner.

"I am _ordering_ you," he came to stand before the two friends, his arms having uncrossed, his hands moving to his hips. "To _give_ her the spears."

Sasha stared at him in silence, seeing the forming anger within his guardians blue eyes at his blatant disrespect, but he couldn't give them to her, they were too heavy for her to carry at this stage. In his opinion, she should have stopped training some time ago, but she was stubborn to the core. It was a trait he was sure the little one would get too.

"Sash," he looked down to his friend. "Give them to me." She reached for them, beckoning with her hands. "I can take them."

He shook his head firmly, if he couldn't get her to _tell, _or to _stop _training, then he'd do his best to help her instead.

"No. _No._" he met Nisroc's harsh gaze and shook his head. "_I'll _do it."

Puriel left his side, frowning in concern as he took note of the continuous heavy breathing of the female trainee before them, coming to meet at her side and guide her off gently.

The Captain took a deep breath, crossing his arms once more, he leaned forward to stare directly in his mentees eyes.

"My office. _Now_."

Sasha gave a quick jerk of his head, bowing under his guardians angered gaze, and looked to the side for his friend for a single moment as he stepped forward with the spears. He saw her nod, breathlessly, cringe, and press a hand to her large well-hidden belly.

Despite his precarious position he was in, he couldn't help but smile in relief.

Some _knew_.

…

Nisroc was in the middle of a harsh reprimanding when there came a knock to his door, it brought him to a heated silence, and he pointed a finger at the one before him as he called out.

"Enter."

The door opened, and Sasha had never been so happy at an interruption before, Puriel stepped in silently. Behind him, he could just make out Akeelah's form, hands pressed to her swollen belly, and he ducked to meet her eyes and smile. She looked far too down. It lifted his spirits when her eyes met his and returned his smile.

"Nisroc, there's some news I think you should hear?"

The Captain tilted his head to the side, not having expected that, and he turned to glance at his young friend, his little _'Baby Power' _standing in the doorway.

"Is everything alright, Puriel?"

"I think I'll let her tell you."

The medic turned and guided the young lady in, Akeelah clutched at his hand as she came to stand before him, and he curled his large fingers around her and gave in encouraging nod to her when she looked up to him in fright.

Taking a deep breath, Akeelah steeled herself, and turned to face her mentor and oldest friend.

"Nis," she took another deep breath, clutching at Puriel's fingers as tight as she could manage. "I'm pregnant."

He stared at her for a long moment, as though he was having trouble comprehending such a thing, and she took another deep breath in anticipation.

The Power shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. "I'm sorry." He looked back up at her. _"What?"_

Akeelah nodded slightly, letting go of Puriel's hand, to walking around the desk her big brother sat at. Nisroc watched her every step, turning in his chair as she came to stand next to him, watching with wide eyes as she slowly tugged the oversized tunic out from the waist of her trousers to reveal her very swollen belly. She reached for his hand and pressed it to the rounded belly, his eyes widened as he felt it, turning completely to curl his other hand around the warm belly. The little one within, just as fiery as their mother was, kicked against his hand.

"Oh, my Father." He breathed slowly, a smile slowly coming to cross his features when the little one kicked again. "You're _pregnant._"

"Please don't be mad."

He stood from his chair quickly. "Oh, my little baby Power, never." He curled his arms around her carefully and she buried her face in his chest. "I could never."

Nisroc pulled back, pressing his hand to her belly again. "Is that why you've been wearing Paul and Sasha's tunics?"

Akeelah nodded, smiling when he poked her in the belly.

"You are very clever." He looked up to meet her eyes. "Have you been looked over?"

"I've seen Isis." She looked down to her round belly. "But that was months ago."

"Let's go get you looked over."

Akeelah shook her head, clutching at his hand tightly. "No! No, we can't, they don't know!"

Nisroc knelt slightly, taking both of her hands into his own. "There is nothing to fear. Be brave, baby Power, we'll come with you."

"They'll be so _mad_!"

"You know they won't." he tilted her head up gently, stroking her cheek with his thumb. "Training has been rough these last few weeks. We must make sure the little one is alright. They won't be mad at you. They need to know."

"You'll come with me?"

The Power nodded. "We'll all come."

**AN: How will the archangels react! LOL!**


	305. Sharing 1

"So, there's going to be another little _'you' _running around?"

The young trainee smiled as the mighty Power caressed her belly with a gentleness some didn't think the strongest warriors in Heaven (save Michael of course) could possess, rubbing his thumbs over the smooth skin under his hands, and she nodded when he looked up at her.

"Yes."

Haniel grinned brightly, leaning forward to press his lips to her belly for a brief pause, and leaned back to stand back up. "We'll be ready for them this time." He caressed her cheek gently. "We already raised his or her mama."

Akeelah smiled up at him. "You did great."

"I know we did." He gestured to the others around them. "We're _us_. We're great at everything we do."

She looked around her, smiling at the others where they stood, some had their arms crossed, others leaned against the wall lightly, but they all returned her smile in kind.

"I'm surprised that you're all so _calm _about it."

From her right, Titus was leaning against the wall, and gave her a kind smile in amusement. "We're leaving the losing of ones mind to the Commander." He pushed away from the wall and crossed to stand before her again, pressing his right hand to her belly, he smiled at the feel of it. "We're all at a loss for words." He looked up to meet her eyes. "We're just better at working with it."

"I, for one, can't believe that Sasha and Paul knew before you told us, do you think so little of us?" Abraxos had his arms crossed, he didn't sound angry despite the question he asked, and she turned to look at him. Shaking her head, she looked down, pulling Paul's tunic back down over her belly. "I didn't want you to think less of me." Fingers playing with the hem of the tunic, she gave a small sigh. "You know I have things I want to accomplish. I didn't want you guys to think I was weak."

"We would never." He bent slightly to meet her gaze. "Needing to take a break, and admitting it, is not weakness."

"I didn't want you to be mad, either."

"Ahh." He nodded in acknowledgement. "We would never be angry with you. Perhaps at _him_. But never at you." She smiled at the comment and he returned it. "Not at you, or the little one who will become our niece or nephew, we adore you two."

Akeelah smiled, tears pooling in her bright starry eyes, and she stepped forward to hug him. He leaned up away from the wall, uncrossing his arms, and hugged her back.

…

If Michael thought it odd to witness his Powers walking with his charge across the training field during midafternoon, he never made any statement on the matter, he concluded that there was possibly something that needed addressed, and despite her being able to handle herself, his Powers were still rather protective of the _'Baby Power'_ they had adopted into their family.

And he turned to return to his own work.

…

Others turned to watch the caravan as they moved down the Axis, not having witnessed the elders guide the young lady through the Axis since she was a small fledgling swinging from their hands or clutching at their trouser legs, and stared as they moved passed them as they continued down the Axis towards the Infirmary.

Akeelah stopped at the bottom of the granite stone stairs that led to the imposing building above them.

A hand settled on her shoulder, and she turned to see who it belonged to, Nisroc smiled to her encouragingly and the others nodded in kind with him.

"We're right behind you."

She nodded, curling her fingers around his hand tightly, his large fingers curled around hers. He nodded to her, and they stepped up the first stair together. The others stepped up just behind them, watching mindfully as their grown _'Baby Power' _took the stairs one step at a time.

They had all been rather confused when their Captain had told them to cancelling their squads training for the day and meet him in his office, and concern had overcome them when they saw their beloved little member sitting so silently in the chair behind his desk. Her admission had been quite a surprise to them, that she would continue to train so strenuously, and that none of them had noticed.

Akeelah came to a sudden stop when they entered the Infirmary, going unnoticed for the moment as healers bustled about to tend to their patients, mix tonics, clean wounds, the duties every healer tended to everyday. Some turned to look, the ones that were nearest them, eyes widening at the sight of them all standing there.

She shook her head. "I can't do this."

The fingers curled around her gave a slight squeeze. "Sure, you can. Here," she watched in horror as he raised his hand, just as the Captain of the Virtues looked up from a chart he was filling out and nodded in affirmation that he had seen his silent calling. "I'll help you."

_"Nis!"_ she hissed, reaching over to smack him in the stomach with her free hand, it only caused him to huff and chuckle with the impact.

But the deed was already done, as Oren finished writing in the chart and passed it to the healer standing at his side patiently, patients could only be released by the Healer's permission or one of his Virtues. The healer nodded in appreciation and turned to return to their charge. Oren stepped through the bustling healers with a practiced sort of ease.

He gripped Nisroc's forearm in greeting and turned to the young lady clutching to the Power's hand, curling his hand softly over her upper arm.

"What brings you here, today?"

The fingers around her hand squeezed again, after a long moment of silence, and she looked up into the Virtue's concerned eyes.

"I need….I…"

"You need what, baby sister?"

She swallowed hard and nodded to herself, she could do this, and she looked up to meet Oren's gaze.

"I need to be looked over."

"Okay." He nodded slowly, nodding to his side, as he guided them officially into the Infirmary for an empty bed. "What needs to be seen?"

The female warrior in training took a deep breath to steel herself against any possible reaction there may be. It was bad enough telling Puriel, who had her tell Nisroc, but telling everyone who has known her since she was just a small boisterous fledgling was no easy task to complete.

"I've been training this last month." Akeelah took a deep breath as they neared the bed. "While pregnant."

They came to an immediate stop, just before the bed, and she pulled away from his side to sit on the edge. Walking these distances was no easy task at the moment. The Powers were all rather surprised that she had kept up with the pace of training with her belly the way it was.

Oren turned to look down at her in shock, mouth opening and then closing, and she gave a silent nod. The Captain of the Virtues turned immediately to look at the Captain of the Powers, Nisroc gave a single nod, and he turned back to the one waiting patiently for him on the bed. He knelt before her silently, reaching out hesitantly to feel her belly, as though trying to prove her words wrong, or reveal the punchline to some prank being played, and the young lady gave a slight nod to his silent inquiry.

It was quite humorous the way his eyes _widened _when his hand curled around her belly, even over the tunic, he could feel the curve of it. There was a slight kick to his hand, a fiery little spirit, just as the mother was, making itself known to him.

"You're with—" he cut himself off quickly, shaking his head as though the trouble was comprehending it, and looked up to her. "Does he know?"

Akeelah smiled, nodding to his question. "Khonsu does, he's ecstatic, the moons been full _three_ times in the last month." She curled her hand over his. "He says I get to pick the names, as if I'd let him do it, his names all _suck_."

The others chuckled behind him, but Oren just stared at her, as if he finally seemed to register her words and the feeling he just felt.

"Do you know what it is yet?"

She shook her head. "No. We went to Isis early on. But I haven't had time to with training."

He nodded sharply, turning to the Power behind him. "I hope you know that I'm pulling her from training for the time being." Nisroc nodded, crossing his arms lightly, and gave her a light glare. "I would have pulled her from it myself had I _known_."

"But—"

He squeezed her knee lightly, Oren turned back to his patient, smiling in hopes to calm her trembling nerves. "You are not being pulled completely as though you were unfit. You will return after our young new friend here joins us, after an appropriate amount of time of course, but you _will _return."

That seemed to reassure the young woman, and she smiled in relief, curling her free hand around the top of her belly.

He seems relieved at the relief that's filled his beloved young friend.

"Let me go get a few things." He rubbed her belly softly and made to stand. "And we'll get you looked over, alright?"

Akeelah nodded, and he guided her around to lay against the pillows, stroking his hand over her cheek as he left them to get what he needed for the exam. She looked down to her hands, crossed over the top of her belly, not watching as the others settled down around her. A protective circle of mighty Powers.

A hand came into view and she looked up to meet her oldest friends eyes, the same eyes, giving the same comforting look, that she had seen plenty when she was a little fledgling following after him excitedly.

She took his hand and squeezed as hard as she could, eyes turning to peer around for the one she _didn't _want to know they were here, and the fingers that curled over hers squeezed back.

"Everything's alright." She turned to look at him, and the Power nodded affirmatively. "He'll know you're here. There's little that happens in this place without him knowing. But it'll be alright." She nodded fearfully and went back to surveying the Infirmary for any sign of _him_.

Oren returned shortly after, setting down a few instruments on the side table next to her bed, and sits on the edge. He turned to look at her, rubbing a small soothing circle over her belly. "I need to lift the tunic."

"Do you have to?" The nervousness in her tone was understandable, as far as he knew, she had told _no one_, save for Paul and Sasha and Zaves, and he knew that his Commander would most certainly react to the news rather strongly.

He nodded. "I do."

She nodded slowly, lifting her hands, and he slowly rolled the tunic up over her belly. His eyes went wide for a moment at the sight of it, as if this was the moment that it was really solidified that the words spoken were as truthful as they come, and he smiled when she shivered in return to him setting his hand on her bare tummy.

"Sorry." Oren chuckled lightly at her glare. "My hands are a bit cold."

"A _'bit cold' _he says!" Akeelah huffed and crossed her arms. "Your hands a freaking _ice cube_."

He continued to chuckle as he felt around her belly, ignoring her light glare as he did, and smiled when he felt the little one kick just a few times, as though to ensure that they didn't like his cold hands either.

"They're feisty little ones." He winked at his young friend. "Just like their mama."

Around him, the Powers straightened and stiffened, and her eyes went wide at his statement. He was sure they'd caught on to the first part rather quickly.

"Oren?" Nisroc touched his arm, and he turned slightly, knowing that the Power was asking for them all. "Little one_s_?"

"Yes." He nodded in affirmation. "Little ones." He reached for her hand, and despite her shock, she pressed the back of her hand into his palm for him to guide her. "The heart beat is a bit hard to feel. But their grace is strong. Vibrant even. Here." He guided her hand around to feel where he'd felt. "One." And over to the other. "Two." The Virtue nodded. "Therefore, little one_s_."

"Are you sure?"

"I believe I know what I'm doing, yes." Oren rolled his eyes slightly, turning towards him. "Do _you_ want to feel them too?"

Nisroc looked first to his young charge, waiting for her to nod or shake her head, and nodded to the Virtue when she gave him permission.

Smiling in amusement, the Virtue positioned the Powers hand over the mid right side. The clear buzz of grace tingled under his fingers. "One." And then a bit to the left. "And, two." He followed him with smug eyes when the Power leaned back in his chair with shock shining in his eyes. "May I continue my exam, now?"

They nodded lightly as they absorbed the latest information.

Akeelah huffed in irritation, glaring at the Virtue again, he had taken one of the instruments in hand, stuck two ends in his ears, and the other end against her tummy.

"Why are you being so mean to me!" She whined at him, and he chuckled. "I'm not meaning to be. I swear. It was just chilly today."

"Then _warm _it up!"

"It'll only be a few moments." He wiggled a few fingers over her belly to cheer her back up. "Tough it out."

"You're a jerk."

He poised the fingers of his free hand over her tummy. "I'm a what?"

"A brilliant healer."

"That's what I thought you said."

The Virtue checked a few more things, listened just a bit longer, and leaned back.

"Everything sounds fine." He gave her a stern look. "But since _someone _insisted on _training _with two little ones in their belly, I'm going to keep you, at least overnight."

Akeelah nodded, turning to look at the Captain next to her, she knew he would have to return to training. They couldn't continue to put it off longer then they already had. They shouldn't have even cancelled it that afternoon. Nisroc smiled when their eyes met, and he gave her hand another squeeze.

"I'll stay for as long as you need me." He spared his Legion a look. "The others can handle things in my absence." The rest of the Powers nodded in affirmation.

"And because _I'm _so nice," Oren produced a blanket from _somewhere_, "I got you a blanket."

He chuckled when she reached for it, smacking her hand away playfully, and draped it over her. She sighed happily and leaned back against the pillows, curling the blanket around herself tightly, and he watched her in amusement for a moment.

Shaking his head fondly, Oren stood after a moment, patting her cheek lightly.

"I have to check on a few others, you rest for a bit, I'll be back to check on you in a while."

The young lady nodded, her eyes already closed, and he smiled fondly down at her as he stroked his thumb over her cheek.

The Virtue turned to his friend. "Nis, make sure she rests."

"Always."

He nodded thankfully and stepped away to tend to the others who needed his attention, immediately being accosted by a fellow healer, and he was gone in an instant. Nisroc watched his young charge rest, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand, and turned to the others.

"You will handle things until I return?"

Puriel nodded. "Stay with our Baby Power. We will cover for your absence."

They sat in silence for a while, talking quietly between each other, surrounded by the bustling of the Infirmary hard at work. The sun shifted through the sky, casting a shadow over the large spacious room, and the great torches on the walls lit on their own into bright brilliant flames.

Nisroc had not been lying when he said there was little that could happen in the Infirmary that the Healer would not come to find out about, and it came as no surprise when he came to join them, peering worriedly at his young charge who lay upon the bed fast asleep.

"Is everything alright?"

He sat on the edge of the young lady's bed, stroking the back of his fingers over her cheek lightly, and looked to the Captain that still held onto her hand lightly.

"Has something happened in training?"

Each Power exchanged a look and turned as one to their Captain to answer the question being asked, he glared at them all for metaphorically throwing him under the proverbial bus.

"Nisroc?"

The Healer called out to him, his voice taking on a commanding edge, raising slightly in impatience. Under them both, the young woman stirred lightly, her free hand curling into the blanket she was snuggled in.

"Not exactly—"

"Would you keep your voices down," he sighed in relief as the Virtue joined them again, leaning over to stroke a finger over the bridge of the sleeping girl's nose, she scrunched her face up and fell back into sleeps grasp. "Don't wake her up."

"Oren," the Healer turned to his Captain in question. "What ailment brings her to us?"

He crossed his arms lightly, smiling in amusement. "I wouldn't let _her _hear you calling them _'ailments'. _It'll just upset her."

"_Them_?"

Oren nodded once. "Ahh, I remember, she hasn't told any of you yet."

"Told us what?"

He gestured to her belly, hidden under the blanket, and Raphael followed his gesture.

"The little ones."

"_Little ones?_"

"Twins, to be precise."

The Healer stared at him.

"She has little ones growing inside her belly."

"That would mean that she's with _child _and there is _no _way she's with child at this age."

Oren crossed his arms. "I _do _know what I'm doing." He gestured to her belly again. "If you don't _believe_ me, then check for yourself, she has two little ones in there. Twins. Just as vibrant as she is."

Raphael stared at him for another moment, before turning and doing just that, preparing himself to tell his Virtue off for saying such a thing about his little bear. He was gentle as he uncurled the girls fingers from the blanket, and folds it back, she shivers slightly but doesn't wake.

He stares at her belly for a long time.

It was rather swollen and rounded, and he stared at it, hesitantly reaching out to lay his hand on it. His hands were warm, much warmer then Oren's were, and she only murmured but didn't wake. Immediately, under his hand, he felt a slight kick.

A small smile slowly crept over his features. "Vibrant, indeed." He felt around her belly, pressing his free hand to the other side. "You said there was two?" there was another kick, different then the first, and he hummed in amusement. "_Twins_, indeed."

"_mmhmm…_Big bear?"


	306. Sharing 2

He smiled at the sleepy call of his name from the one who had called him such a title since they were a small fledgling following him around or riding a top his shoulders, it was hard to believe in times like these that she was growing up before their eyes, time was moving by so quickly, it felt as though it was just yesterday that she had been asking him if she could come to the Infirmary with him to see the patients and the Virtues.

"I'm here, little bear."

Her eyes fluttered lightly, where she could peek out at those who disturbed her while she slept curled so tightly, nodding slightly to his response and allowing her eyes close once again as though it was not much of a disturbance; his being there.

He felt her go rigid under his touch, and he knew that his presence was finally being recognized, he hadn't even removed his hand from her warm swollen belly and had been rubbing his thumb over the smooth skin for the duration of their quick meeting.

Akeelah flew up, wide awake, her eyes going wider then saucers.

The archangel smiled at her, rubbing his thumb continuously over the smooth skin under his fingers. "Did you sleep good?"

"Did I—You're here—The—Please don't be mad!"

"You'd expect me to be, wouldn't you?" he pat her belly softly and pulled his hand down to lay in his lap, she stared at him in terror, as though she were expecting a rather explosive reaction to this secret being found out. "You need to calm down. All this stress isn't good for the little ones."

She only calmed a bit, still staring at him with wide unsure eyes, and so he reached forward to guide her gently back into her pillows behind her.

"I'm not mad."

"You're not?" the young woman stared at him with her unchanging wide eyes. "Why aren't you mad?"

He raised an eyebrow, humming in amusement. "Would you _rather_ I be mad?" Raphael pulled the blanket down to cover her belly again. "Because I _can_ be mad if you want me to be."

She shook her head frantically. "No! That's okay!" she reached for his hand and he let her curl her fingers around it so that she could pull it back to her chest. "I don't want you to be mad." She clutched his fingers tightly as she tilted her head to the side. "Why aren't you mad?"

The Healer chuckled lightly, turning the hand that she had in her grasp, and curled his fingers around hers.

"Because I know that you are _growing up_." He smiled at her gently. "And that you are in a very loving relationship." He rubbed his free hand over her belly. "If you choose to bear his children then you are allowed to."

The Healer looked to the Power next to them. "I trust that she'd been pulled from training?"

Nisroc nodded lightly. "She has just been pulled."

He stared at the younger angel for a short while before blinking. "Excuse me." The Archangel tilted his head to the side. "She's _just _been pulled?"

He turned to look back to his growing charge in the next moment, humming at the sight of her tilted head and blatant refusal to meet his gaze, he pat her belly with his free hand until she looked up at him.

"You've _just _been pulled?"

Akeelah flinched lightly. "I didn't tell anyone."

"Akeelah." She chanced a glance up at him and flinched. "What you did is very ignorant." He tugged her fingers lightly. "You could have seriously harmed your little ones."

He nodded in approval when she curled her free hand around her belly. "I don't want to do that."

"Good. You will take it easy for the time to come." She opened her mouth, and he silenced her with a look, giving her fingers a fond squeeze. "_Yes_, you may still _walk _through the trainees. But nothing more."

"I love you, big bear."

Raphael smiled down to her, leaning forward to press his lips to the back of her hand. "I love you too, little bear." He looked down to her belly again, his smile brightening at the feeling of the two little ones weak but vibrant grace, setting both hands over her belly again. "Do you know their gender?"

She shook her head, and he resisted the snort of amusement when the Powers leaned in forward around them, even Oren stepped closer.

"Do you want to know?"

Akeelah went wide eyed. "Do I have to tell Khonsu that I know?"

"That's your decision to make."

She nodded excitedly, looking down to her belly for a moment, and then back up to meet his gaze. Raphael smiled in amusement and let his grace roam free, it tingled over her skin as he reached out to the two budding fledglings, they reached out just as exuberantly as he reached for them.

"One's a girl." He focused on the other. A bit harder to read then their sister was. But there was few who got away from him unnoticed. "The other a boy."

Akeelah stared at him as he pulled away. "I'm having a _girl_? And a _boy_? _Both_?"

"Both, indeed," he smiled in adoration. "Do you have names for them yet?"

She nodded. "Lyra and Izar."

Oren smiled at the names in amusement, she was never one to leave an opportunity alone. "Stars."

The young woman looked down to her belly with a smile, nodding to the Virtue absently, and curled her hands around the smooth skin. The others turned to look at the Virtue Captain in question, his smile taking them all by the mind, curiosity shining in their eyes.

Nisroc tilted his head. "What?" Oren nodded to the one on the bed. "The names she choose, they mean _'Star', _fitting given her ability to create them."

His commander gave him a strange look. "Why do you _know _that, Oren?"

He looked a bit offended, but there was no real heat behind the expression, pressing a hand to his chest as though he'd been insulted. "I _know _many things."

The Healer chuckled, reaching out to pat him on the hip. "Oh, don't be so sensitive, you know we're only playing."

"I don't _know _that."

"Do you want me to lift your spirits?"

Oren jumped out of his reach when he dug his thumb into the curve of his hip, shaking his head in assurance. "No, that's fine, I'll take your word for it."

The young woman on the bed looked up with an amused smile, letting go of the Power's hand to tap the Archangel on the arm, he turned to look at her at her silent request. She looked passed him to the Virtue, smirking lightly in a way one did when they were about to throw another under the proverbial bus, and he narrowed his eyes at her look.

"I think he needs help."

Oren huffed lightly and pointed a finger at her. "Don't think that being with child will keep me from coming at you."

She giggled and hid behind the Healer, under her blanket, the Archangel reached back to pat her on the legs and brush his fingers over her cheek.

"Joking aside, you will take it easy from here on, no strenuous activity." He poked her on the nose. "I would order you to bedrest, but I know you would simply find a way to sneak off. If you feel _anything _let us know immediately." Raphael turned to look at the Powers around them. "I trust that at least one of you will be staying with her?" he smiled when they all nodded.

He had no doubts that they would stay by her side from here on, at least one of them, it was rare for those of the Host to have little ones. Nephilim were not a common occurrence, though their population was not a struggling one, they had become rather sparse after the last three decades.

"Very good," he nodded to them all once. "Get more rest." He turned to his charge with a gentle smile and guided her back to her pillow. "We'll come around to check on you in a bit."

…

Zaveriel helped her guide his tunic over her head with a gentle ease, helping her tuck the ends into the waist of her trousers from behind, turning that way was becoming a difficult task to complete. He stepped around to the front when she nodded, long braids jerking against her back, and he held his arm out for her to grab onto.

The messenger looked over his shoulder. "We're going out! Don't wait up!"

From behind him they heard the Healer's voice call back in turn, and knew that he was pointing at them, even without turning to see for themselves.

"Take it easy. Nothing too vigorous."

"We're gonna go storm Hell!"

"I would skin you both."

They laughed together at the empty threat as they exited the great archway that stood as the entrance of the Infirmary. The sun was shining, as bright as ever above their heads, casting them in a warmth as though they were covered in an unseen blanket.

As soon as they entered into the warm day outside, Zaveriel turned to his companion, his lips brushing over the side of her head.

"What do you want to do today?"

She turned to him with a smile. "I could _really _go for some peaches right now."

He nodded in the direction of the Garden. "Then let's go get us some peaches."

They stepped down the first stair, and continued on to the next and the next, crossing into the bustling traffic that was the Axis. Angels turned to look at them as they passed, some huffing as they crossed into the way and forced them to step aside in another path, others merely smiled and stepped away on their own choosing.

Zaves led her through the bustling Axis and off to the worn path that led up to the Garden. As he usually did, Joshua gave them a knowing smile in greeting as he tended to a withering lavender tree, they waved as they usually did, and walked through the trees for the small orchard behind them. He guided her to an upturned tree and helped her sit on it.

"I'll get you a big one."

Akeelah smiled and nodded, watching him dart off to search the trees for the best peach he could find, searching far and wide for it. She watched him patiently and laughed when he jumped for it, the one that he had found, the one he had choose to be the perfect fit and jumped for it in the tree. It took him a couple tries, but he managed to curl his fingers around it, and pull it from the tree above him.

Jogging to meet back at his friends side, he sat on the trunk next to her, breathing deeply, rubbed the peach clean on his own tunic, and passed her the fruit he'd found. It was plump, definitely ripe, and she laughed as she took it.

"Zaves, any would have been fine."

"Not for my niece and nephew it wouldn't be!" He urged her to take a bit. "They get nothing but the best!"

"They're not even here yet and you're already spoiling them!"

"Gotta start early if I want to be the _favorite_ uncle!"

She elbowed him slightly, humming in delight as she took another bite of her gifted peach, he grinned at her and leaned closer to knock their shoulders together. "You've got competition, then."

"I'll beat 'em!"

She laughed, throwing the pit of the peach to for the soil to take back, and turned to look up at him. Even Zaves had grown bigger then her, though he'd always been taller, she was just short.

"I don't know Zaves, Nis is in that competition too, and he's pretty good."

The messenger huffed in exaggeration, nodding in turn, admitting defeat in that aspect. "Yea, he's a pretty powerful opponent, but I'll beat him."

"Good luck."

They sat in companionable silence for a bit, listening to the gentle breeze though the treetops, the soft chattering of birds above their heads. She took a deep breath, soaking in the smell of the Garden, the fresh air that circled all around them.

"I wanna go explore, Zaves."

He stood immediately, holding a hand out for her, and she reached back for it in turn. Their fingers curled together, and he pulled her gently to her feet. Akeelah curled the fingers of her right hand into the crook of his left elbow, following in kind when he turned to lead them from the Garden, they both waved their farewells to the Gardener on their way out.

"Where do you want to go?"

She shrugged, looking up at him with wide hopeful eyes. "I don't know Zaves. Just take me somewhere." Throwing her head back, she closed her eyes tightly. "It's so _boring _staying in the Infirmary!"

"Well, you wouldn't be there if you had told someone earlier." She glared at him and he held his hands up in surrender. "I'm just saying, Akee'."

He smiled to her, leaning over to kiss her nose. "Come on, let's go see what we can find."

They walked through the Axis for some time, looking at the stalls, picking up random knick-knacks, talking to random angels who crossed their path. They stopped in front of the Villa's gate and he turned to look down at her.

"You wanna go see Gadreel?"

She nodded, giving him a smile, and rubbed her belly softly. "I think we all wanna see him for a while." He smiled, nodded, and reached forward to undo the latch from the gate and led them inside. Gadreel was reading on the porch of the Villa, and looked up as they approached, smiling in greeting, and set his book to the side as they came to stand before him.

"Hello, my friends." He cradled her belly softly in his hands. "How do the little ones fare?"

Akeelah turned immediately to her friend, with narrowed eyes, and gave him an accusatory glare. Zaveriel raised his hands and gave a small laugh.

"He acted like he knew!"

She shrugged lightly, everyone was bound to find out eventually, and cradled his hands in her own.

"They're great. Lively. They kick at everyone." She squeezed his left hand in comfort. "Can I show you?"

The retired sentry smiled, nodding to her request, and she moved his hand around her belly for a moment before finding the spot she was looking for. They waited patiently for it to pass, and then it did, a slight kick pressed against his hand.

He smiled at the feeling. New life in this new world they lived in.

"It's like they know your hands there!"

"They are smart little ones, taking after you, they are quite lucky."

"_Zaves_!" the call of the messengers name brought them to silence, the voice being from the Messenger, in search for his captain. "There you are!" Gabriel came to stand next to him, smiling at the company that they shared, raising an eyebrow at the sight of the sentry touching a hand to his grown charge's belly.

"Um, Gadreel, why are you feeling the nugget's belly?" he looked over to her in concern. "Do you feel sick?"

She rolled her eyes. "You're just as bad as Raph. I feel _fine_." He seemed only a little convinced but from her comment before hand, left it alone beyond asking. Turning more to her, he raised his eyebrows, taking in her attire.

"Is that Zaves tunic?"

His captain nodded in answer to his question for her. "Yep, fits like a charm."

Gabriel looked between them both with scrutiny. "Why isn't she wearing her own tunics?"

Akeelah sighed softly, sparing a glance with her two friends, and turned to face the Messengers head on.

"Because mine don't fit anymore."

"You should have seen it," Zaves giggled lightly. "She wore Nisroc's last week. It was so _huge _on her!"

She pointed a finger at him. "Just because I'm pregnant doesn't mean I won't hit you."

Gabriel took a moment to catch on to what she said, even if she didn't appear to realize that he was slowly comprehending what had just been stated, glaring at her friend beside him the way she was.

Zaves laughed and shook his head. "I'd like to see you try." He rested his hands on his hips, "What would your mentor think, fighting in an unfair fight, we both know I'd never hit you back."

"I don't care what he'd think! He'd believe me if I told him you deserved it!"

"Wait." They turned towards the Messenger as he held his hand up to bring them to a halting silence. "_Wait_." He shook his head and gave a particular look to all three of them he stood before. "What do you mean '_pregnant'_?"

She smiled at him as though he were a fledgling. "It means," pressed her hands to her belly, "that I have twins growing in here."

He stared at her for a minute, looking as though he were about to be told it was all a joke and start laughing, looking between the three of them for either one to break the punchline. His eyes widened when none of them made any motion to do so.

"You're…..But you don't look it!"

She laughed softly. "Thanks?"

"Was it the Egyptian?"

Akeelah nodded brightly. "I named them; Lyra and Izar. Khonsu is ecstatic. He's told nearly everyone in the ancient city at least twice. Anubis says we're having a little of puppies. He thinks he's a funny guy."

He looked between them all, smiling brightly at the knowledge that he was about to be an uncle or a grandfather, he'd take whatever title he thought suited him best.

"You're having _babies_!" he stepped forward, opening his arms for her, and she stepped into his embrace. "We can gush about our babies together! I got so _many _pictures! We have to get you everything; toys and nappys and bottles and _everything_!" He hugged her closely, mindful of the swollen belly that pressed against his front, and they pulled away quickly. Gabriel knelt before her, taking her tummy in his hands, and spoke as though he were speaking directly to them.

"Hi babies, I'm Uncle Gabe, the favorite uncle!"

Zaves looked offended. "Hey!"

…

"Raph, I need a tonic for one of my young new ones."

The Healer nodded, pulling his hands away from his charge's belly, and pulled the blanket back over her to go and make the requested tonic for the unlucky choir angel to need one. Lucifer frowned lightly at them as he whispered something and stood, the Healer turned to nod at him, and he stayed him with a look for a moment.

"What's going on?" he crossed quickly to her side and sat on the edge of her bed, reaching out a hand to press to her stomach himself, as though his brother was feeling for a stomach ache. What met his touch instead had his eyes widening. He felt a slight push against his hand, just a minute little thing, and he looked between his younger brother and the young woman he had taken as his charge all that time ago. "Are you…?"

Raphael excused himself quietly to fetch what he'd come for and he turned to meet the starry eyes of his grown fledgling.

"Are you with child?"

Hesitantly, she nodded. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

"Why didn't you?" the Morningstar sounded hurt that something as big as this had been kept a secret from him.

"I thought you'd be angry at me." He hummed under his breath, reaching out to lift her chin with a finger, so that he may see into her eyes. "Why would I be angry with you?" he stroked a curled out of her eyes, tucking it behind her ear. "You are young, yes, but I would have been excited for you. The happiest I've been in the longest time."

"Are you mad now?"

Lucifer shook his head. "No, I'm not mad, I swear." He leaned forward to kiss her nose. "I'm happy for you. We are going to have new little ones in our family soon. How can I be mad at that?"

Akeelah giggled as he kissed her on the nose, scrunching her nose up at the feeling, and leaned away from him. He tugged her closer, leaning over to press his lips to the side of her neck too, pecking the skin there playfully as well. She giggled again, scrunching her shoulder up, "Luciiii!" she whined in breathy giggles and pushed against his chest. He chuckled into her neck and pulled away, caressing her cheek lightly, end brushed his nose over hers.

"Tell me of your two little ones. I must know them if I am to be there favorite uncle."

…

He looked up to the knock on his bedroom door, forgetting the paperwork on his desk, as he gently called entrance to the one who had requested it. A smile immediately crossed his features when the head of his little star poked in through the crack that was made.

"Can I talk to you, Micha?"

The archangel nodded immediately to grant the request, sitting back in his chair, she smiled and pushed the door open. She stepped in silently, closing the door behind her, and padded gently over the threshold to stand at his side. He backed his chair away and pat his lap for her to sit on, and softly, she looked down.

"I need you to move back a bit more."

The Viceroy raised an eyebrow but did as she said, scooting his chair back a few more paces and she gingerly sat in his lap. He tried to wind his arms around her waist but found it to be a surprisingly difficult task.

"Little one?"

She took a deep breath and he knew that she had closed her eyes, tensing in preparation for what may come as the reactions he'd have to the revealing of her news, her fingers curling in the legs of his trousers.

"I'm pregnant."

It took him a moment to comprehend what she had said, not believing it at first, and she turned to spy at him from over her shoulder.

He curled his fingers around her waist. "You're with child?"

She nodded hesitantly.

"I'm going to kill him."

"No, Micha, no." she turned as best as she could, and he felt her belly rub against his as she did, only solidifying the news that she was with child. "Please don't!"

"He has deflowered you. You are growing his children within you. He will die for these crimes."

"Micha." She took hold of his face, pressing her forehead to his, and stared into his eyes. "I said _yes_. He asked me first and I said _yes_. I _wanted _to."

He stared into her eyes for a long moment, leaning forward to kiss her on the nose lightly. "He treats you well?"

"He _loves _me, Micha, he treats me so _great_."

"And he is happy you are with his children?"

She nodded. "He's already had a nursery built into his temple. We've named them and everything."

"And you are okay with this?"

Akeelah nodded quickly.

Finally, after a long moment, he smiled to her. Tugging her braids lightly, he kissed her nose again, and brushed his to hers.

"All I care about is that you are taken care of, and that you are happy, you are both of these things?"

Akeelah nodded again.

He smiled and leaned back, looking down to the belly that brushed against him, and hesitantly reached forward to curl his hand over it.

"We will build our own nursery here for them, this shall be there home, we haven't had real young ones since Gabriel had been created." Michael smiled up at him. "Will you introduce them to me?"

…

The two young ones, demigods of the Egyptian sort, were born sometime in the dark of night when the stars shined the brightest over head and the full moon illuminated the sky. They all sat in the back hall of the Infirmary, waiting on the edge of their seats waiting for any word of the two babes, they all been shut out rather forcibly from the backroom, with the exception of Oren and Kokabiel slipping under the Healer's arm. Khonsu had been allowed in, along with Isis, while they all waited for the news that beholden them.

Her screams echoed through the hall, and all heads turned in the direction of the door, staring at it as though someone would come out by shear force of their stare. The Powers stood back, leaning against the wall silently, arms crossed over their chests as they winced from the pitch of the screams. The Morningstar and Viceroy were pacing the hall silently, their own arms crossed, peering at the door as they stepped passed it. The Messenger sat on the bench with his Captain, fiddling with their hands in similar fashion, waiting for the others behind to door to come out with any sort of news.

There was one final scream, and then silence, they all held their breath for any sort of word to be given. Silence echoed the loudest around them. The Powers pushed away from the wall, their arms still crossed, and came to stand at the side of the bench the Messenger and Principality sat. Michael and Lucifer came to a standstill, the lot of them just staring expectantly at the door before them and breathed a sigh of relief to the anticipation building within them when the door was pushed open gently.

Kokabiel stepped around the corner, propping the door open with her hip, and raised an eyebrow at the lot of them being there.

"Do you guys want to meet them?"

They all stepped forward, nodding in turn with each other, and she raised an eyebrow when she opened the door wider and gestured them all their entrance.

The Healer was washing up in a basin of water, healers milling about doing little tasks, Oren was standing at the foot of a wide feather bed. He was smiling at something they could not see, not yet, and peered over his shoulder at the sight of them approaching.

He stepped away a pace, coming to stand at her side instead, when they turned the corner and came to stand before the bed. Khonsu sat next to her on the bed, stroking the head of one of the little ones. Bright starry eyes looked up at them, smiling in wonder, and they returned the smile in kind.

Akeelah lay against pillows, a clean tunic belonging to the Healer covering her, her face sweaty against the pale glow of the candles flickering all around them. In both of her arms, she cradled two little ones, a light caramel in color, one with tufts of bright blonde curls and the other with tufts of dark curls, sleeping peacefully against their mother's chest.

"Oh, little one," the two oldest archangels came to sit by her side, the eldest reaching out with a finger to stroke it over the soft cheek of the babe wrapped in a pink blanket. "They are beautiful." Gabriel and Zaveriel came to stand at her other side, Nisroc to Zaves left side, smiling down at the babes as they slept so peacefully. At the end of the bed, the other Powers congregated, Paul and Sasha among them.

Titus and Abraxos knelt at the end of the bed, leaning against the edge, and between them Sasha and Paul knelt too. Puriel and Raguel leaned against the posters of the bed just behind them.

They all gave small sighs of adoration when the little on in the pink blanket opened small bright blue eyes, cooing softly as she reached for the finger stroking her cheek, a little hand waved a bit as teeny fingers curled around the finger.

Michael smiled at the feeling of tiny little fingers curling around his, curling his finger slightly. "Welcome, little one."

…

The newest squadrons of training turned to their mentors in curiosity at the sight of the great Power Captain walking through the legions with a small babe with wild curls in a pink cloth diaper cradled on his arm, leaning back on his chest as it suckled on his fingers, cooing around its snack at all the ones they pulled to a stop to explain the maneuver again, and then had then begin again to make sure they got it right.

The questioned the sight of the Commander walking through them, with an infant sitting on his arm with wild dark curls wearing a blue cloth diaper, suckling at one of his fingers, as they made their rounds together.

Their mentors merely shrugged and turned them back to their training once again.

Nisroc smiled down to the babe he carried, stroking his thumb over her cheek softly, she turned to look up at him and smiled around his finger in her mouth. "You are a great spotter, little Lyra." She cooed up at him and nibbled at his finger with her soft gums.

He walked forward still, coming to stand before his own squad as they trained, he called reset and they did as ordered. One stepped away though, making their way to the pair of them, he smiled at their approach.

"I don't believe I said to pull away."

She laughed at his words, cooing at the babe on his arm, the little one giggled excitedly and reached out for her.

"Let me see my baby, Nis."

The Captain chuckled and raised his arm as his trainee curled her fingers around the babes middle and, supporting her head, lifted her from off his arm. The baby girl cooed happily, fingers curling around the braids that hung in front of her, her mother leaned down and kissed her on the nose and the babe giggled around her fingers, reaching up for her mothers nose.

"Are you having fun with Uncle Nis, Lyra?"

The infant cooed again, her little fingers curling over her mother's lips, and she pressed a kiss to the little palm in front of her mouth.

"He's you favorite, isn't he?"

"Of course, I am." He lifted the babe from her mother's arms, brushing braids over her shoulder as he caressed her cheek. "Just as I was your favorite, little baby Power, wasn't I?"

Akeelah snorted and elbowed him in the side, it did little to affect him, and he chuckled at the feeling.

"I'll never admit to anything."

"You don't have to. I already know."


	307. Decisions

It was well after the end of the training day, during a conversation with Haniel in his office, that the intrusion happened. There was no knock to his office door in a respectful inquest of entrance, there was no call out from outside to seek permission to enter, nothing of the sort was had.

No. His office door was torn open, interrupting the conversation between the Captain and Haniel, and both Powers turned to see who had interrupted them so disrespectfully. It came as a surprise when Sasha appeared in the door way, clearly deeply angered by a matter unknown to them, and stalked into the office quickly.

"What was _that_!" The Captain raised an eyebrow as his grown charge stalked into his office, paying no mind to their guest, and watched as he crossed to stand before his desk, holding a finger out to point at him. "_What _was _that!"_

Nisroc watched him coolly, fingers folded just before him on his desk, and looked him in the eyes.

"Lower your finger, Sashael, get it out of my face."

The younger angel ignored him, either from his anger or just out of spite, and shot back on his own.

"What kind of _call _was _that_?" Sasha shook his head angrily. "I _beat _him _fair and square_! And _that's _the call you make!"

"I will only tell you this one more time." Nisroc's tone took on a sharp edge, and Haniel edged his way backwards, he knew that tone and he knew that Sasha knew it too. "_Lower _your finger from my face."

"It was an _unfair _call and you _know _it!" Sasha thrust his finger at him. "I _beat _him! So why was _he _named victor!"

Nisroc shot from his chair, standing to his full height quickly, towering over the younger angel. He understood when one was angry that they did ignorant things, but he never stood for being disrespected, especially by his own two charges.

His hand shot out and caught the smaller one pointing at him

"I don't have to explain myself to you." He stalked out from behind his desk. "I don't have to tell you why I make the decisions I do." He pulled the younger angel closer by the grip he had on his hand. "And I most certainly won't take this disrespect from you either, you are walking a fine like Sashael, you calm yourself down."

Sasha struggled to pull his hand free, growling in anger. "I don't care what you decide! You word means _nothing_!"

"For your information, I called him victor because you already knew the move that I had shown you, he had just learned it."

"That's not _fair_." He fumed. "You called _him _victor because he's your new _pet project!_"

Nisroc narrowed his eyes. "Mind yourself Sashael, the ice you walk on is beginning to crack under your feet."

"I jump through the damn ice!" Sasha was so caught by his rage, he didn't think about it, as he pulled his free fist back and plowed it into the Power's stomach. "You're a _jackass!_"

It knocked the wind out of the Captain, but he quickly recovered.

He turned sharply to Haniel. "Leave us."

Haniel spared the young angel a sympathetic look as he passed them.

Once the door clicked behind him and they were on their own in the office, Nisroc turned to his charge and trainee in a rage, never had any of them ever tried to strike him.

"How _dare_ you strike me!" he took hold of the younger angels ear and forced him back a few steps. "How _dare_ you question my judgement!" he walked him across his office and reached for the spare belt that hung from the hook on the wall. "How _dare_ you use such language in front of me!"

The Power curled the belt up in one hand and reeled his arm back, forced the young one around with the grip on his ear, and delivered a harsh echoing smack.

…

He knew that things weren't so easily forgiven, especially with his standing with his decision, when he stepped out on the training field the next day with the intention of greeting his little niece and nephew, only for his trainee to direct them both to the Commander and glare at him as though he had personally harmed her.

Sasha fell out with Haniel instead of him that morning as well.

And it caused him to sigh.

…

"Sasha," the squadron all looked to the one that was called out. "May I have a word with you?"

The trainee sighed at the request, setting his book aside and sliding down from his bunk, Akeelah squeezed his arm from her own bunk, reading to her twins as they relaxed on the wide mattress. Now that they were old enough to, they often stayed at their mothers side, and he had immediately approved her request to have them join her.

He turned as the other approached, knowing that the younger angel would follow him without the need of being watched, Sasha knew to follow even in his sourest of moods. He knew that their was confusion when he led him passed his office, up the stone stairs at the end of the hall that led to the Pavilion above, the others waved to the young angel in greeting as they walked passed the lounge and to the hall that contained their bedrooms.

Holding the door to his own bedroom open, he gestured for his growing charge to step in, Sasha crossed his arms as he did. He looked about the room as he waited for his old guardian to close the door and address whatever he wanted to address, so that he may get this out of his way, and then return to his bunk for the night. He had no desire to be here, no desire to be with him, and had no desire to hear what he had to say.

"Jealousy does not look well on you."

He huffed. "I'm not jealous."

Nisroc hummed. "Oh, I'd disagree, you're rather jealous of Donavon."

"I am _not_! You were being unfair!"

"I know you won that match. I was watching it. I gave him the victory because we both know he would not have gained it on you. He had mastered the maneuver that you had mastered some time before. It was his victory in learning it."

"That's not fair! It was _my _victory!"

"A true victor would allow another to feel the same pride."

Sasha crossed his arms tightly. "I don't _care _about how he feels. It was _mine_."

"Oh, my little fledgling." The captain drew him into his arms despite his stubbornness. "Jealousy does you no favors."

"I don't like you."

"Oh, yes you do." They swayed lightly. "You _love _me."

Sasha pushed against his chest. "I hate you."

"But I love you, my jealous little fledgling, with all my heart." He rubbed at his back lightly. "Do you want me to show you how much I love you?" he maneuvered them back towards his bed. "Just let me get my hands on your thighs." Sasha yelped when his knees hit the edge of the mattress and he fell backwards over the Power's bed. Nisroc followed him, curling his fingers around his thighs, and dug in rather viciously. "I'll show you just how much I love you."


	308. Mend a Broken Heart

"I did _everything_ he asked me to."

He pet the back of his head tenderly. "I know you did, little bumblebee."

"I even protected that nasty little seraph he likes."

"I know." He stoked his fingers through his thick wavy locks. "And I'm so proud of you for doing it."

"I led his flock without prompting."

"And you did a great job." He rubbed soothing circles over his back.

"I caught him when he was rendered unconscious." There was a soft sniffle somewhere within the folds of his tunic. "I could have just let him _fall_."

"I know you did." He spoke gently over his head. "I tended to your hands."

"Then why wasn't I good enough?" watery blue eyes looked up at him and he gave a sad little hum at the sight of them, leaning down to press his lips to the younger angel's temple. "Because he is an idiot."

The Healer stood with his old charge, just recently reelected back into the ranks, holding onto him just as tightly as the younger held on to him, swaying side to side as he listened to the exmessenger voiced his upsets against his chest.

He'd been a good older brother, he'd warned his younger brother that he was losing his second, that Zaveriel was going to pull away if he didn't get his act together. Gabriel had agreed, much to his surprise, and they'd set up a time for them to get together and just spend the day together. Reacquaint themselves with each other and begin to mend the rifts that were growing in their relationship.

Raphael had been serious when he had said he could not fault his younger brother with wanting to spend time with his children, any parent would want to, but to continually promise something, and break it, was something he could be faulted for. Zaves was the type of angel that gave everyone second chance upon second chance, but he'd seen it, every time the Messenger would promise for the next weekend, Zaveriel began to pull away. Until he had just had enough of being pushed to the side and had come to him, asking to rejoin his flock, and watching the treatment he'd received for the last two months, the Healer had taken him back with open arms.

There came a knock to his door.

Resting his chin on the soft hair under him, Raphael looked to his office door. "Enter. Quietly." The door opened and his Captain poked his head in. "Hello, Oren." His Captain, bless his heart, had immediately found a place for the younger angel amongst his ranks. Zaves had skills that would be quite the loss not to make use of. "What can I do for you?"

Oren spared the young exmessenger a sad glance. "The Messenger is here. He wants to speak to you."

"Get rid of him. I'm tending to someone right now."

He gave a slight nod. "We've been trying to. He pulled rank."

Raphael heaved a sigh, it was the third time in the same week that his younger brother had come to him demanding him rescind his grant for reentering his flock, he never received the outcome he always came seeking.

"You speak in my steed, there for you outrank him, tell him to leave."

"Sir." Oren nodded and pulled his head back out the crack. The door shut softly behind him.

Zaveriel sniffled softly. "I'm alone now." He squeezed the back of his neck gently, scratching fingers against the smooth skin. "That's nonsense and you know it." He dug his thumb in a particularly tense spot on the base of his neck. "You have me. You have little Akeelah." He felt the younger angel shiver as he worked away the knot that had formed from his constant tension. "All the Powers are especially fond of you, Nisroc in particular, thinking of you as a younger brother." Zaves melted, slightly, against him when he found another knot and began to knead it free. "Oren's rather fond of you. He found you a place among his ranks without any prompting."

"He only did because he knew you'd ask him to."

"Zaves," he rubbed his shoulders lightly, his wings, kept in that mirror dimension that all angels kept them in when not using them, curled inwards in comfort at the feeling. "You know that's not true. He knows your talented. He found a place for you because he cares for you, and likes the compassion you have, you fight for what's right even if it means disobeying orders. He doesn't like his orders being disobeyed," he rubbed at his neck again. "But would give you that leeway because he knows that you follow your heart, first and foremost."

"If that's true, then why didn't my own master want me?"

"Hush." He kissed the outer shell of his ear. "I am your master now and _I _wouldn't have you anywhere else but at my side."

He felt the younger angel nod against his chest. "You're the best, big brother."

"I am only as good as my younger brothers are."

Zaveriel turned to look up at the Healer, greeted by a smile and a soft peck to his nose, and despite his sorrowful mood he smiled up at him. "Thanks for letting me come back."

"Always." The archangels tone was firm. "Without any hestitation."

Another knock at the door had him sighing in slight frustration. "Yes, Oren?" the Virtue poked his head inside again, smiling sheepishly at interrupting them again. "He's refusing to leave. He's demanding to talk to him."

"Yes, well," he beckoned the Captain into his office, and Oren entered quickly, closing the door behind him. "That's just not going to happen." He reached for the Virtues wrists, wrapping his arms around the younger angels waist securely, and without prompting, Oren pulled the young exmessenger back into his chest.

Oren had just been granted his position as Captain of his Virtues when Zaveriel had been given to him for raising, there was no one else he would trust with the fragility of his heart at this time, and the Captain had always been quite enamored with the younger angel, right from the very first meeting.

"I will deal with the matter myself, if that's how he wants to be, you stay with him until I return."

Oren nodded, his chin rubbing against the soft wavy locks under him, and tightened his hold around the younger angels lower midsection.

"I'll stay with him."

"I know you will." Raphael pat his cheek fondly. "You always did."

He bid them a slight farewell, promising to return shortly, and closed the door behind him as he stepped out. Oren swayed them from side to side, spinning them in a slow lazy circle, the younger angels arms crossing over his.

"You need to cheer up, little brother." He spoke softly into his ear. "This doesn't suit you in any way."

Zaveriel sighed against him, folding back against his chest lightly, fingers scratching at the back of his hand.

"I just can't, Ori." He fell silent for a moment. "I'm just really _sad_."

The Virtue smiled at the name. "You haven't called me _'Ori' _since your Choosing Day." He nudged the younger angels ear with his nose. "Why'd you stop?"

"I grew up." The fingers scratching at the back of his hand stilled. "And you were a _Captain._" He went silent for a moment. "Others said it was _improper_."

Oren hummed behind him. "Since when do _you _care what others think?" He kissed the side of his neck lightly, smiling when goose pimples formed at the light touch, and kissed it again. "You should call me _'Ori' _more often, it makes me happy to hear it again, I miss how close we used to be." He hummed lightly when Zaves shook his head.

"I can't call you that anymore."

"You can if I say you can." He leaned in closer to his neck, smiling when the younger angel shivered at the feeling of his breath fluttering over sensitive skin. "That's an _order_."

"You can't make that an order! I'd be the only one calling you that! It would be embarrassing!"

"I _believe _I just _did_."

Oren smiled as he eyed the spot he chose and slowly burrowed into it. Zaves squeaked lightly, scrunching his shoulder upwards, tilting his head to he side when a single kiss was pressed into the skin. "Oren!" he chuckled against his neck, the vibrations making giggles gather in his chest, and he tried to push him away with his elbow. "Get out of there!" the Virtue nibbled softly at a spot under his ear and he squeaked again, breathy giggles finally escaping from his chest, and he could feel the elder smile against his neck. "Make me."

Zaveriels hands immediately shot to his, attempting to pry them apart, but he locked the fingers of his right hand around the wrist of his left, and dug those fingers into the lower belly under them.

"You're not getting away from big brother that easy."

Zaves fell back into his chest, strong giggles turning into laughter, and his struggles began anew soon after the shock wore off. The Virtue was taller then him, at least by a head and a half, possibly two, and folded down around him. He adjusted his hold on the younger angel, moving his right hand to stand beside his left, and dug all ten fingers into his lower belly.

"Big brother will cheer you up."

"_Orehehehen!_ Stohohohop!"

"No, no, no." his hands moved up to his ribs, digging into either side with careful practiced ease, arms closed over his fingers as the youth tried to protect his rib cage, laughing brightly against his chest, but they did nothing to deter him. "I _ordered_ you to call me something else."

"I cahahahan't! Plehhehehease!"

"I'm not stopping until you say it." He raised his hands, easily pulling them out from under the arms attempting to trap them, wiggling his fingers against the underside of his chin and down to his collar bones. Oren smiled at the high-pitched giggles such a thing produced from his younger brother, he shook his head in an attempt to dislodge his fingers, it didn't, he followed him wherever he turned his head. "I can do this all day. Theres no telling when he'll return. You're _mine _now."

The elder was waiting for him to lift his arms and try to pry his fingers away, and smiled when he finally did as he desired, immediately moving his hands down to dig his fingers into his underarms. Zaves shrieked in laughter, thrusting his arms back down, trapping his fingers under them.

"Look at you! It's like you're a fledgling again!"

"_Orehehehehe! Orihihiihihihi! Pleehhehehehease!" _Zaves managed to speak between bouts of bright pitched laughter. _"I sahahahaid ihihit! I sahahahaid ihihihit!"_

_"_Yes, baby brother?" he moved his left set of fingers back up to wiggle under his chin, laughing softly when his younger brother squeaked again and raised his head, trying to get him away, it only gave him more to play with. "What can I do to help?"

_"Stohoohohohohop! Stohohohoohop ihihihit! Get out from under my chin!"_

"But listen to those high-pitched giggles it produces for me." He dragged his finger down from the tip of his chin, across the taught skin, down to his collar, and spider'd all five back up again. "Just let me listen to them a few moments longer. I haven't heard these in quite some time."

"Orihihihihi!"

"Alright, alright, I'll tell you what," he itched a finger just under his chin. "If you turn around and give me a hug, I'll stop, and you have to promise to call me 'Ori' again."

He raised his arms when he felt the turn coming, chuckling when the younger angel hugged himself deeply against his chest, fingers clutching at the back of his leather vest. He slowly lowered his arms around him, hugging him back just as tightly, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. Zaves was breathing rapidly, it was a rather harsh attack on the elder's part, the older brother rubbed soothingly at his back and gave him a gentle squeeze of affection.

"Do you promise, Zaves?"

Zaveriel nuzzled closer, an action that could be interpreted with a simple nod in affirmation, but Oren knew what it truly was, and it brought a smile to his face.

"I promise, Ori."


	309. Watching

"Uncle Nis! Uncle Nis!"

The Captain turned from addressing the newest recruits, kneeling swiftly, and scooped the two young ones up on either arm. They giggled in unison and curled their arms around his neck, pressing a kiss to both cheeks in greeting, he pat their legs lightly in return.

"How are my favorite niece and nephew doing today?"

"Mama said we gets to spen' the day with you, Uncle Nis!" Little Lyra looked at him with big bright blue eyes and he smiled at her, nuzzling into her neck lightly, and her giggles were like a balm to an unseen wound for him. Her brother, Izar, tugged lightly on his hair and he turned to greet him in the same manner. "I am more then happy to have you with me today."

The little twins cheered happily, looking out to the ones he addressed, Izar leaned against the side of his head and little braids rubbed against his ear. "Can we help you train, Uncle Nis?"

"Can I finish addressing my newest recruits?"

They both responded in unison. "Yes!"

He smiled and turned back to addressing the newest recruits, two little identical twins seated on his arms, curled into the crook of his shoulders. They nodded to every word he said, twin heads of tight braids rubbing against both of his cheeks, and it brought a smile to his face at the feeling of it. The group nodded on turn to his orders and split off into pairs to begin their hand to hand sparing.

"What shall we do first, little ones?"

The twins exchanged looks and giggled. "We wanna train like you do!" he chuckled at their request and nodded, setting them down to their feet. "Very well."

Both twins giggled excitedly, their hands coming together, they'd held each other's hands since they'd been small newborns.

He kneeled in front of them, resting his arms on his knees. "Now, you can't move away, remember?"

They nodded excitedly and giggled brightly.

The Power smiled and reached forward. "Can you take a frontal attack?" he wiggled his fingers into their bellies, and they giggle brightly, turning away from him at the assault. "How about an attach to the side?" he moved to their sides and gained himself the same reaction. "You are strong little ones."

They rushed forward and collided against him, nearly knocking him off his feet, but he caught himself and caught them, standing back up once more.

"Shall we go watch the new class?"

Lyra and Izar nodded in unison, they did nearly everything together, and he smiled in amusement.

"Le's go tell people they bad!"

"Now, I've told you this." He turned them back to the newest recruits. "We don't tell them their bad. We tell them how to be better."

Lyra giggled into his ear. "I like tellin' them they bad." And he chuckled, blowing a light raspberry into his neck, bringing forth a bright squeal of laughter.

"I know you do!"


	310. Catch Me if You Can

Castiel grew concerned when his youngest charge began to withdraw from them, preferring to lock himself in his room, pushing himself away from everyone and anyone. He wouldn't grant entrance to his brother, nor to his mother, and especially their seraph friend. When he began to show up with blood dripping down his hands, he knew that something was seriously off, and he called for the only one he knew could fix this.

The Healer did not look pleased to have been interrupted from his doings to come down and see what the matter was that caused such concern, he was still no friend to the Winchesters and their Angel, and would prefer for them to learn life's lessons the hard way then aid them in the process.

"What is the _problem _this time, Castiel?"

"Sam has changed in temperament." He raised his head slightly. "I though it best to contact you for the situation."

Raphael gave him a dull stare. "You _interrupted_ my day with my fledgling because of a mere temperamental change?" he looked between the three of them with an equal amount of distaste. "Perhaps he's finally seen how tedious you all are and has decided to wipe his hands of you. He was always the _smart _one."

"My son wouldn't do that. Family is everything." Mary Winchester stepped forward, ringing her hands together in worry, staring at the archangel with hope in her gaze. "Please. Please help my son."

He stared at her for a moment, as though weighing his decision in his mind, and heaved a sigh as he nodded his head.

"Tell me what happened?" he looked between the three of them. "You say his temperament has changed, how so?"

"He's withdrawn. Locked himself in his room." She's still wringing her hands. "He came out the other day dripping blood on the floor."

The Archangel lifted an eyebrow. "Dripping blood?"

Mary Winchester nodded. "Yes. He'd cut himself. Deeply. We had to take everything sharp out of his room."

"Has there been any signs of this coming on?"

"None." She shook her head. "It just…just _happened_."

"So suddenly?"

The hunter nodded. "So suddenly."

He hummed, nodding as his mind whirled with possibilities, there was really only one he could think of. "Go get the boy."

Dean looked to Castiel at the order, as though inquiring on whether he should follow it or not, and the Healer cleared his throat.

"If you _wish _me to help him, then I suggest you retrieve him, and do so fast. I have a prior engagement I am late for and I will not be around for long."

The hunter turned and ran for his brothers room, not wanting to find out if he would truly leave them to deal with this on their own or not, Raphael waited impatiently for him to return with his brother.

It took him only a moment of mere glancing at him to know what has happened.

He turned back to the Seraph immediately. "What have you done to Zaveriel to make him so angry at you?"

"I don't understand."

"It wasn't a difficult question." Raphael waved a hand in front of the hunters face and the withdrawn glaze to his eyes disappears. "This is his doing." He turned back to the seraph. "So, what have you _done_?"

"He would not—"

"_Oh _yes he would." He crossed his arms loosely and tapped a finger to his lips. "He dislikes you, _deeply_, and would most certainly do what he could to cause you pain." He gestured towards the humans. "What better way then to harm your humans. Sam Winchester harming himself would be the one way to bring his brother to his knees. And the sure way to bring his mother to hers would be witnessing her sons fall apart. That would be the ultimate revenge." He glared back at the seraph once more. "So I repeat, what have you done?"

Mary Winchester stepped forward. "How?" she looked confused. She never heard of an angel who could do that to a person.

"Pathokinesis. Induced Empathy. The manipulation of emotions." He looked between them all carefully. "Why do you think we all try so hard to keep him in high spirits?" Raphael looked upwards for a moment. "He could bring entire cities to their knees without ever touching a single soul."

"You will tell him to stop."

"Who are _you _to order _me _about?" The archangel glared at the seraph. "I will do no such thing. You asked me to help your friend, and I have." He shook his head. "I won't let him seriously harm any of you, but I will not stop him, so I would think hard on what it was you did that angered him so much."


	311. Hidden In Plain Sight

"Zaveriel." He set a hand on the younger angels head lightly. "You know that you have duties to be completing in the Infirmary when we are not called to battle."

His companion was bent over on himself, doing something with his hands, the muscles in his shoulders gave way to that inclination and Oren smiled at finding him so distracted.

"My patients are all sleeping."

The Captain looked to his designated area in surprise. "Did you drug them?"

"No?"

Raising an eyebrow, the healer pet his head lightly, gesturing around the Infirmary as a whole. "There are plenty of others to take under your watch." He frowned when the exmessenger only hummed at his words, distracted by whatever he was doing, the elder tried to spy over his shoulder to see what held him captivated as much as he was, but couldn't see what was so interesting.

Zaveriel was leaning back in the chair, legs propped up on the table that stood at the other of the beds that were under his watch, folded over himself as he focused on whatever it was he was doing at that moment.

Oren tugged on the ends of his hair. "Are you even listening to me?"

"Yes?"

"What are you even _doing_?" he stepped out from behind him, coming to kneel at his side to see what was so intriguing, and something within him instantly cracked as he finally saw what had him distracted so much. "Zaves, no." He reached out to take the small dagger from him, but the smaller angel pulled it away from his reach, shaking his head as he slowly began to uncurl. "It's mine."

"Zaves, give me the dagger please." He held a hand out for it patiently. "I need you to give it to me."

"No."

"Zaves."

The young healer shook his head. "It's just a flower." He laughed softly, and for the first time, the older Virtue heard the crack within. For the first time, he heard the pain that was well hidden within it, and sorrow filled his being at the knowledge that this was most probably not the first time the pain had come through that no one had picked up on. "What's what with a flower?"

"Zaves."

"It's just a _flower_, Ori." He watched the younger angels hands tremble lightly. "Flowers are _harmless_."

Flowers were indeed harmless, roses were harmless, tulips were harmless. Just not when they were drawn into the skin, painted by the blood that was raised, and with such intricate detail. Oren shook his head, hand still held out for the dagger, and gave a sad sigh.

"Zaves, you need to give it to me."

"No, Oren, you're _completely _overreacting!", there was a slight crack in his words. "I've been doing this for _so _long! It's fine. I got it under control. It's just flowers. Harmless beautiful _flowers_."

He bit back the urge to order him to elaborate on what he meant by the statement and let his mind wander to the possibilities of just how long this had been going on, under _everyone's_ noses.

"Zaves, please, do you trust me?"

Zaveriel nodded immediately, without any sign of hesitation, tilting his head to the side in confusion. "Of course, I do. You're my Captain. And my older brother. Of course, I trust you."

"Then I need you to give me the dagger."

"But—_Flowers_."

"Zaves." He flexed his fingers lightly. "Please."

The younger healer looked over to his treasured dagger, and then back to his older brother, back to his dagger once more, and gave a sad sigh as he nodded softly. Leaning forward, he set the hilt of his dagger in the older Virtue's palm and watched as his long fingers wrapped around it and he reached back to tuck it into his belt, and his fingers curled around the exmessenger's outstretched hand. "I'm going to hug you, okay?"

Zaves nodded, leaning forward against his older brothers shoulder when his arms curl around him solidly, resting his chin against his shoulder silently. "They're just flowers, Ori."

"I know." He rubbed soothing circles over his back. "Let's get you cleaned up."

Zaves nodded, again, curling his fingers in the Virtue Captain's tunic tightly. "They're just flowers."

"Even some flowers have thorns."

Oren pulled back, taking his face in his hands, and looked him in the eyes. "You're going to be alright." He nodded in assurance. "Come with me?"

Zaves nodded, taking the Virtues hand when he held it out, and allowed himself to be pulled up from his seat. They left his section of the Infirmary. "Ori, what about my patients?"

"We'll take care of it."

The older Virtue led him through the rows, to his section, and sat him on the edge of a bed. He pulled up a chair and sat in front of him, waving their intwined hands, gazing down into his younger brother's eyes. "Can I see?" he waited patiently for the younger angel to give his consent, and when he nodded, he turned their arms over and reached forward to push his sleeve up.

They painted up his arm, raised scars in the form of flowers, from his elbow down to his wrist. Intricate flowers, made with great detail, some large and some small, but covering every inch of his arm.

He stroked his fingers over the raised skin gently, tracing the flowers with mystified sorrow, looking up at him. "You said it's been a while?"

"Since Gabriel left." Zaveriel frowned lightly. "The _first _time."

Oren nodded, having trouble absorbing the information being presented to him by his young companion, it was a wonder that no one had noticed. He had hidden the activity so well. His jokes and laughter hid a dark secret successfully for quite some time.

Scooting to the side, to the table that sat next to the bed, he grabbed a glass bottle with a rag and some bandages, before returning to his position in front of the grief-stricken youth.

He glanced up as he wet the cloth with the liquid in the bottle. "This may sting a bit." Zaves shrugged. "I'm used to things stinging." Something within him cracked even more at such a simple statement. He set the bottle aside and dabbed at the intricately drawn rose, the petals distinguished, thorns coming to a sharp end, and hummed softly when the younger angel still gave a slight hiss in discomfort. "Why?" he glanced up, breaking their silence, as he wrapped bandages around the self-inflicted wound.

The younger Virtue gave another shrug. "I can't be happy _all _the time." He rubbed at his right eye and he took a moment to notice the glistening in them. "Something I get _sad _too."

"Oh, baby brother." Oren reached out to rub a tear away as it unwittingly escaped from his eyes. "Can I hug you again?"

Zaves nodded, as his face scrunched up and his composure slowly cracked away, burrowing into his older brother as his arms curled around him again. Sobbing deeply into his chest, as he clutched at his tunic with all his might, breaking in the soft comfort that was offered in the embrace. A hand curled around the back of his head, bigger then Oren's, and he knew who it was. He could barely hear what was being spoken, the words just a soft rumble in his older brothers chest, as he slowly sobbed himself into ragged silence.

Oren adjusted slightly, moving his left arm as the Healer knelt into view, rubbing at the back of his neck lightly with his warm hand.

"Zaves, I'm going to have to take your sword and daggers, alright?" he nodded along with him. "And one of your older brothers will have to be with at all times for a while, okay?" he nodded again, pressed against his older brothers chest, clutching at his tunic as tight as he could manage. "If you ever feel the urge coming on again, you tell one of us, alright, can you do that?" Zaves sniffed slightly, nodding again, pulling himself closer to his older brother. Oren smelled like pine trees. Raphael gave him a comforting smile, running his fingers from the back of his neck to his cheek, brushing his thumb under his eye to catch the straggling tear as it fell. "Good boy, very good." He stood out of view, and said something to the Captain above his head, but he paid it no mind as he closed his eyes. Someone knew his secret now, two someones, and more to come.

He knew the Healer stepped away when Oren curled around him more securely.

"What will the others think?"

Oren pressed his chin to the top of his brothers head. "They'll be concerned. Sad. But there will be no judgement from them."

"How do you know?"

He sighed deeply. "Because their healers, first and foremost, we all understand it." He rubbed his thumb over his arm. "And you are their younger brother. They will be concerned. But they would never think differently of you."

"I'm sorry, Ori."

"Don't ever apologize." He rubbed his back gently. "Never apologize." The Captain of the Virtues pressed his lips to his head. "You did nothing wrong." Gently releasing him from the hug, he pulled him back, caressing both sides of his face in his hands, and rubbed his thumbs over his cheek bones. "You were just really sad, and after everything that's happened, I understand. So, don't apologize." He guided him back against the pillows, tucking the blankets up over him, and stroked his forehead with the back of his fingers. "You sleep. I'll take care of everything."

"Don't leave me, Ori."

"I would _never _leave you."


	312. Recompence

"May I ask where your boots are?"

Raphael looked down to his Captain's bare feet in amusement, raising an eyebrow in question, and looked back up to meet his companions eyes. Oren was equally amused, despite the situation, and chuckled a bit. "_Someone _decided to fill our boots with syrup."

He chuckled in return, nodding in understanding. "Ah, indeed, it is a good change of pace for him."

Oren nodded in agreement. "I can't find the nerve to be angry about it. The lightheartedness of such a thing is improvement beyond measures. I only want him to be happy." He looked down to his bare feet for a moment, huffing a laugh. "Even if it be at our expense."

"You all are good older brothers." They turned to look at the one that stood as the focus of their conversation, leaning back in a chair reading through his patients files with his feet propped up on the table, as they slept peacefully unawares. "Are we _sure _he doesn't drug them?"

His commander chuckled softly, nodding his head in affirmation, and shook his head in exasperation. "He truly doesn't. I've checked."

"How does he get them to sleep so fast?"

"That is a secret that I haven't figured out just yet."

Raphael hummed in amusement. "I trust you'll all get your revenge?"

"Of course." Oren nodded. "When he least expects it."

…

He hummed absently to himself as he wrote vigorously in the grand book that he and Akeelah shared, their grandest ideas ever to be thought, tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he concentrated on documenting his latest and greatest job.

Nothing but the wind rustling the leaves in the trees and the soft sounds of birds chattering above him.

"Where did you even _find _that much syrup?"

He snorted, slamming the grand book closed at the voice, turning over on his back to see Oren kneeling behind him. There's unmistakable amusement in his eyes as he watches his youngest Virtue grin up at him.

"That's for me to know."

"And for me never to find out?"

Zaveriel grinned cheekily, nodding his head slightly. "Got it in one."

"You're a cheeky little thing, you know that?"

"I like to think it's my best quality."

"I'd disagree." He watched with wide eyes as his older brother fell to his knees, straddling his legs, and tugged his tunic out from under the leather belt around his waist. "_This _is your best quality." And dug all ten fingers into his lower belly.

Laughter exploded from him immediately, arching his back at the suddenness of such a merciless attack, his older brother grinned at him in amusement and pulled him back around as he turned onto his side.

"Orihihihi! _Nohohoho!"_

"You should have thought more on the aftermath when you decided to drown my boots in syrup."

His fingers moved up from his lower belly to the sides next to his belly button and he shrieks brightly, his fingers curling around his older brother's as he tried to pull them away, Oren shook his head and digs his fingers in deeper.

"You let go right now." He leaned over him, meeting his eyes, smiling at the laughter that shone in them. "Or I'll do something I haven't done since you were a fledgling."

Zaveriel's eyes widen at the threat and he immediately lets go of his hands, curling his fingers in the grass under him instead, shaking his head frantically. The older brother smirked, leaning forward even more, resting his hands at his sides.

"I think I'll do it anyway."

The prankster's eyes widen as he leans over.

"Ori! Nohoho!" He shrieks when he burrows in. "_Yohohohour beheheahahard mahahakes it sohohoho much wohohohorse!"_

"What did you say?" he smiles into his belly. "I think it's my best feature."

…

Zaves sighs as he leaves his latest files on his new commanders desk, as he had been ordered to, scratching at the back of his neck lightly as he makes to turn around, yelping when he's pulled so suddenly back against someone's chest.

"Hello, baby brother."

He groans at the moniker, they remind him of that fact every chance they can get, looking over his shoulder to greet his older brother in return.

"Hey."

Constantine smiles down at him. "I just managed to clean my boots of _all _the syrup."

"Bet that was quite the mess."

"Oh, you have no idea." He leaned forward as though spotting something. "You've got something," curling his left hand around the side of his head and he pulls it against his shoulder, in the crook of his neck. "Right here."

Zaveriel sucks in a surprised breath when he scratches lightly at the side of his neck, and without restraint holding him in place, he makes to step away from the light touch. Constantine stills his finger, speaking into his ear, as he curls the fingers of his other hand around his forehead.

"If you step away, I'll burrow into you neck so harshly that it'll make you scream as if you were a fledgling again."

He shakes his head quickly, settling back against his chest, and the older Virtue chuckles softly. "That's what I thought." He moves his fingers again, dragging it up to a point behind his ear and down to his collar, again and again, and Zaves bites his lip to keep the giggles from gushing out.

The giggles overpower his willpower when the finger wiggles a path from the side of his neck, over the front, and up under his chin.

Shaking his head frantically, in an attempt to dislodge the finger, a snort escapes from him and light high-pitched giggles fill their commanders office.

"Cohohohostahahahaha!"

Constantine chuckles warmly, pulling his head back against his shoulder, to keep him from shaking his head in a vain attempt to escape his punishment. His younger brothers shrieks once, brightly, when he strokes all five of his fingers down the front of his neck and back up to scratch lightly under his chin.

"Yes, baby brother?"

"Stohohohop!"

He hummed in amusement. "Why should I?"

"Behehehehcahahahause I ahahahaskeehehehed nihihihicehehely!"

"You did, I'll give you that, but is that good enough a reason for me?"

"Yeheheheheheeessss! Costa!"

Zaveriel goes tense when he feels his older brother lean closer. "I don't think it is." And screams brightly when he burrows into his neck.

…

His class looks up at the appearance of the elder Virtue, and Zaves goes tense immediately, it's been going on for everyday this week and he prepares himself for the oncoming attack.

"Hello everyone." Ephraim curls his arm around his lower back and pulls him snug against his side. "Little baby brother."

"Eph." He shoves against his older brother but doesn't move him an inch. "Stop."

"What?" His tone is amused as he turns to smile down at him, a few members of his class giggle at them, and he feels his face heat up. "Can't I stop and see my precious little baby brother?"

"Eph, _your embarrassing me!_"

"Oh," there's something in his older brothers tone. "You want me to _embarrass _you?" He nods seriously. "Okay." He feels fingers curl around his hip. "Remember when you were a fledgling, and every time we did this," he digs harshly into his hip, "and you'd do that." Zaves shrieked brightly, jolting against him, his own fingers curling around his older brothers arm.

Ephraim smiles at the reaction, and turns to address their newest youngest Virtues class, chuckling at the amusement he sees in their eyes.

"Class, who can tell me why, when I do this," he digs into his hip again, "he does that?"

…

The Healer stands at his Captains side as they watch Akriel and Zed bring their youngest brother to tears with rather cruel torture directed to his feet, laughing at his begging, and reaching forward to squeeze at his knees when he tries to tug away.

"I take it you've all had your revenge?"

"Oh, yes." Oren smiles when Zaves manages to kick them both in the chest, forcing them back, and flips over the back of the chair. "We are very pleased."

"You enjoy tormenting him?"

"No more then any older brother would their younger."

Akriel and Zed laughed at him as he glared over his shoulder, struggling to pull his boots back on as he crossed the threshold to stand at their side, huffing still to catch his breath.

"Oh, baby brother." He pulled him into his side. "Were they being mean to you?"

Raphael chuckles in amusement, petting the youngest Virtues hair back, Zaveriel looks up at him. "How does it feel to be the youngest?"

"Unfair!"


	313. Commander

"How can I help you, young Sasha?"

Michael scooped the fledgling up as he came to stand around the side of his desk, settling him on the edge of his desk, and propping his feet on his lap. Sasha huffed and crossed his arms over his little chest.

"I'm mad."

He chuckled at the young one's admission. "Why are you mad, little one?"

"Because Nis yelled at me!"

Michael tilted his head in confusion, raising an eyebrow at the thought of his Captain yelling at his beloved little fledgling, and squeezed Sashael's little feet. "What ever for?"

"I don't even know, Micha!" Sasha held his hands up and shrugged. "He was looking through some stuff and I asked him a question and he just yelled at me!"

"Would you like to me find out why?"

Sasha nodded quickly. "Make him say sorry for yelling at me!"

Michael chuckled again, nodding in acknowledgement, patting the boys outer thighs. "Yes, I will make him apologize too."

The fledgling nodded seriously, and the archangel lifted him up to set him back to his feet, letting him take his hand and lead him from the office down the hall to his Powers bedrooms. Nisroc had his back facing them, as they stood in the doorway, unawares that they were there behind him. He was flipping through the pages of a thick book at his desk, undoubtedly making up his new lessons plans, a good warrior knew their way around more then just a weapon.

Michael turned to look down at the fledgling, squeezing his hand lightly, and the little one looked up at him curiously. "Why don't you go to the Garden, little one, Akeelah is playing with Lucifer and Paul there."

Sasha nodded excitedly, turning to run down the hall for the Garden, and he smiled as he watched him go.

Stepping into the room, he shut the door behind him with a soft click and rested his hands on his hips.

"Nisroc."

"Sir."

He hummed. "You will face me when I speak to you."

His Captain went stiff in the shoulders, leaning back from the book, he stood slowly from his chair and turned to face him.

"You yelled at your fledgling and it upset him enough that he came to _me _about it."

"He got in the way."

"He _asked_ you a question."

Nisroc huffed and crossed his arms lightly. "Why are you here, sir?"

"I promised to make you apologize and I keep my promises." He stepped forward for him. "Your heart has grown rough. I will fix this."

…

Michael turned the corner of the hall and stopped in his soldiers doorway. Titus was sitting on the edge of his bed, leaning forward on his elbows, rubbing at his shoulder in a vain attempt to rub away the tension. It was an old injury, long since healed for him to return to duty, but still caused trouble after anything too strenuous. He didn't let it hold him back in battle, but the aftermath, he retreated to his room for hours after their return as the tension locked up into something unexplainably painful.

"Here, Tus."

After watching for a moment more, he stepped into the room, Titus looked up at him at his appearance in his room and nodded in greeting. Michael gave him a comforting smile, pushing him around gently, as he slid in to sit behind him, he curled his fingers around his shoulders and dug his thumbs in deeply.

The archer groaned deeply, melting at the touch, falling limp in his hold.

"Turn for me."

He turns where he sits, and Michael curls his fingers around the back of his neck, pulling him forward to rest his head against his shoulder, and he melts against him when he dugs back into his shoulder, massaging at the knot that has formed over the muscle.

"I've told you before to come to me when it gets this bad."

"I don't want to be a burden."

"That's nonsense and you know it." Michael dugs deeply into his upper back and Titus groans again. "I wouldn't have told you to come if you were burdensome."

Titus sighed deeply, closing his eyes. "Can you move to the left again."

His older brother's chest rumbled as he chuckled. "Of course, baby brother."

…

"Puriel, come with me?"

The medic looked confused at his call, but followed dutifully after his commander, Michael led him back into the Pavilion and up the stone stairs, down the hall and passed the lounge, back to his bedroom. Puriel stood in the doorway of his room in confusion, watching as his commander closed the curtains over his windows, blocking out the sun, and sat at the bottom of his bed.

Michael looked up at him expectantly. "Come."

"Sir?"

"I know you have a migraine." He raised an eyebrow as though daring him to deny the fact. "You'd flinched four times standing out in the sun. So, come, lay down."

Puriel shook his head, flinching at the knocking it created, and decided it was better to just go along with it then it was to argue over it.

Laying on his bed, stretching out comfortably, and laid his head on his brothers lap as gently as he could.

He sighed in relief as warm fingers gently massaged into his temple.

"Does this feel better Puri?"

The medic nods silently, only a slight thing, and slowly falls limp over his older brother's lap.

"Try and go to sleep, little brother, it'll help you best."

…

Haniel felt tears well in his eyes as fingers dug relentlessly into his lower belly, scrabbling for his commanders fingers with everything he's worth, arching his back when the elder finds a particularly sensitive spot.

Michael looms over him, as if studying the shine that is slowly returning to his eyes and digs in again when he doesn't seem to like the results he's seeing.

"You've lost your laugh, Hani, you've grown far too serious, big brother will help you fix this."

…

They're all lounging in the Garden when he takes note of the bags under his Power's eyes.

Patting his thighs, he reaches up to poke him in the arm gently. "Lay down, Abraxos."

His Power turns to look at him, looking down as he pat his thigh again, and shakes his head. "Sir, I shouldn't."

"You can and you will." He tugged on his sleeve. "You haven't slept well in come time. I can see the bag under your eyes. Lay down."

Hesitantly, the Power gives up the fight, and lays down among the grass and rests his head on his commanders thigh. Fingers brush gently through his hair in a way that makes him settle down.

"Get some sleep, Abe, I'll watch over you." Fingers trace over his forehead. "Big brother will take care of you."


	314. Babysitting the Baby Power

Michael was pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

Beside him, Gabriel was laughing unashamedly.

And, beside him, Raphael was smiling in amusement.

As Lucifer lectured the Powers Captain on the caring of his fledgling as they planned to leave her in the Captain's care while they left on their assigned mission. Nisroc, in turn, nodded to everything the Morningstar said, amusement clear in his posture. The young trainees nearest them couldn't help but stare at the sight of the _four _archangels standing there talking to the Captain in charge of their training, despite Abraxos attempts at drawing them back to their basic trainings, they were to captivated by the sight of them to turn back.

"And she has to be asleep, not in bed, not falling asleep, actually _asleep _by nine-thirty, or she'll be extremely grumpy come morning. She can have one, only _one _peach half before bed, and a cup of warm milk if she has trouble falling asleep."

Akeelah's sitting comfortably on his hip, her braided head resting lightly on his shoulder, picking softly at the collar of his tunic.

"She sleeps with me at the Villa, so she'll have to sleep in bed with you too, she likes to curl around your arm when she sleeps, so don't be alarmed. She's allowed to wander around during the day so long as she returns to you at the setting of the sun. If you need to find her though out the day you can find her mostly in the Garden with Joshua or at the Pantheon with Jeremiah."

"Brother," Michael cut him off when it appeared that he was about to starting on again, and Lucifer turned to look at the older archangel over his shoulder, Akeelah sighed in content and curled her fingers around the cut in his tunic's collar. "Nisroc is raising a fledgling of his own. He knows how to care for her. We must go."

Nisroc nodded in turn at his Commanders words. "She is in good hands, sir."

"Right, right, sorry." Lucifer felt his face heat up in embarrassment at his brother's calling him out. "I'm a bit protective."

Gabriel snorted.

He turned to look down at the fledgling perched comfortably on his hip, smiling when her big starry eyes turned to look up at him in return, and brushed a finger over her nose. "I must go, little bird, be good for your friend." And began to pull her up from her position on his hip so that he could pass her off to the Power Captain, waiting patiently with his hands out to take her, and she clutched tightly to him, wrapping her arms around his neck as tight as she could muster.

"No! Luci no!"

Lucifer grunted as she leeched onto him, curling around him as much as she could, and refused to let go.

"Akeelah, I'll only be gone for a few days, you know Nisroc." He reached back with his free hand to try and pry her hands apart to release her grip around his neck. "You stay with him at least once a week."

"Luci no! I wanna stay with you! No!"

"You can't come with us this time. You like spending the night with Nis and his two young ones. I'll be back before you even have the chance to miss me."

Michael stepped up behind him when his struggles became obvious, and the fledgling had yet to faulter or budge, and took hold of her wrists as gently as he could, prying her fingers out of his tunic. Tears fell from her starry eyes when he held them away from his brothers tunic, and over his shoulders, nodding for his Captain to step forward and grab her by the middle.

Nisroc curled his arms around her middle, pulling her away from the Morningstar before she had the opportunity to latch back on again, holding her steadily as she struggled, kicking and squirming and crying, reaching for the Choir Master for him to take her back into his arms.

"No! No Luci! I wanna stay with you! I wanna stay with _you_!"

He blew her a kiss, the sorrow in his eyes evident at the sight of her tears, certainly he would have taken her back if he was able to, and Michael put a hand on his shoulder to keep him from doing so.

"Come, brother, she will be alright."

He nodded, blowing the fledgling a kiss, he would have stepped in to kiss her on the forehead, but they all knew that it would only be the opportunity she needed to cling on once more. "Be good for me, little bird."

"No Luci! Luci!" She cried out when he turned and stepped away, reaching for him even still, trapped in the Captain's arms. "Luci! Luci!" When it didn't appear that he was going to turn around and come back, a sob broke from her small form, her arms still outstretched for his disappearing form. _"Lucihihihi!"_

Nisroc turned to look at the trainees, and they immediately turned back to their training, Abraxos spared him a saddened look at their fledgling members distress. He nodded to him in acknowledgement and looked down to the sobbing fledgling hanging limply against his arms, turning her around carefully, he pulled her up to lay against his shoulder.

"I wan' Luci!" she sobbed against his shoulder, and he curled his arm under her bottom as he rubbed at her back with his free one, "I know you do, little one." She curled around him, clutching at his tunic with her little hands as her back heaved with the force of her sobs, and he bounced her lightly in an attempt to calm her quaking. "He'll be back in a few days."

"I wan' him now!"

"I know."

Nisroc turned, to walk through his training classes again, rubbing at her back soothingly as she sobbed into his shoulder. Trainees turned to look as he stepped passed them, watching the legendary Power pat at the fledglings heaving back as she sobbed against him, and returned to their actions when he turned to look back at them.

Akeelah's sobs slowly came to a slight sniffling, her head resting on his shoulder, but he still rubbed at her back. Silence echoed after the sound of the harsh sobs that had been torn from her small form, the only noise breaking it being the sound of breathing with a runny nose, and he came to stand next to Abraxos in front of the training squadron of new recruits.

Abraxos turned to address them, rubbing a finger over the back of her little hand, where it still clutched lightly at his Captain's sleeve. "She was very upset."

"Indeed." Nisroc nodded gently, as to not disturb her tranquility, turning to look at him from over her shoulder. "Is she asleep?"

"Definitely sound asleep."

The Captain Power nodded in appreciation to his response and stilled his circling hand, patting lightly at her back for a moment, and let his hand fall back to his side. His arm was sore from rubbing at her back for so long but was happy she had managed to cry herself to sleep, it was sorrowful, but it would do more good then harm. "Good, she could use a nap."

"Are you going to carry her with you?" He gestured towards the benches were a pile of cloaks sat, they were for the new squadron, but wouldn't be passed out until the end of training. "You could lay one of the cloaks out and set her down." Abraxos leaned forward to kiss the back of her little hand. "She'll be out for a while, no doubt."

Nisroc shook his head, lifting her up high, adjusting his hold on her. The fledgling mumbled softly, smacking her lips gently, and nuzzled into his shoulder. "No, that's alright, I'll keep her with me." He rubbed the back of her neck to settle her back down. She sighed and nuzzled back down to sleep. "The last thing we need is her waking up on her own." He rubbed her back again. "And she'll be fine once she gets together with Sasha and Paul."

"You're going to have your hands full."

"I'm taking this as my time to prepare."


	315. Jam Sessions

"NisNisNisNis!"

They all turned, amused, at the excited call from the fledgling as she crested the final stair and bounded across the threshold, jumping over Titus and Puriel on the floor, and climbed up to sit in their Captains lap. Nisroc chuckled as she gripped his tunic and pulled herself up, pulling his arms away as she slowly but surely climbed up to sit on his lap, and curled his arms around her when she settled down against him.

"What can I do for you, baby Power?"

"I wanna invite you guys to our jam session!"

He tilted his head, exchanging a look with the brother next to him, looking down at the fledgling in confusion.

"Jam session, little one?"

"Yea, we all get together." She waved her hands in a funky motion. "And go freestyle." She looked up at him excitedly. "And Jeremiah said I could invite you guys to come this time!"

The Captain smiled. "I would love to come, but—"

"Paul and Sasha can come too!"

"Then, we shall join you." He kissed her head and she smiled, looking up at him, kissing his chin lightly. "All'o you?"

"Of course."

…

"Zaves! Reel!"

The fledgling skid into the oldest archangels room, where they sat on the Sentry's bed, playing a card game for two. Zaves quickly scooped the pile up when the fledgling took a running start from around the corner of the doorway, bouncing across the floor, and jumped up on the bed. Gadreel laughed deeply, wiggling a few fingers in the little one's belly in greeting, and she shrieked brightly and curled up between them.

"Hello, little friend."

"Hi 'Reel!" she hugged his hand tightly.

"What can we do for you munchkin?" She turned to stick her tongue out at her best friend, Zaves, and he returned the gesture in kind.

"Jeremiah says I can invite you to our next Jam Session!"

Gadreel looked confused, looking to his most trusted friend for clarification, and Zaves nodded to him. "A Jam Session is when the choir sings what's in their hearts and not just in the books."

The Sentry nodded. "I would be more then grateful to come."

"Me too, kid, count me in!"

…

That evening, as they gathered around their table as they did every night, Akeelah stood on her master's lap and raised her hand excitedly until the oldest archangel chuckled in amusement and called on her name.

"Yes, little star?"

"You guys are invited to our Jam Session!" she flopped back down on the Morningstar's lap, curling his arms back around her, and sat back with a bright smile. The four archangels exchanged confused looks. Turning to the Morningstar first. "What is a 'Jam Session', brother?"

"I do not know. We never had one before."

Akeelah nodded. "Yea we did. You just weren't invited before." She picked at his fingers. "We started doing them again when we locked ourselves up in the Pantheon." The fledgling smiled up at them. "And Jeremiah say's I can invite you guys too!"

"Who else have you invited, little bear?"

"Well, I invited you guys obviously. And Nis and Hani and Puri and Abe and Tus. Also, Reel and Zaves. And Sasha and Paul."

"That's quite a lot of people."

"Miah says that others should see how the Choir really is."


	316. In the dark of the night

He's an archangel. He shouldn't be going to his older brothers room after something as common as a nightmare anymore. He's not a fledgling anymore. He should be back in his own bed like the grown archangel he is. But his self doubts don't stop him from reaching out for the door handle of his older brothers room and doesn't slow him in the slightest as he pushes the door open.

Standing in the doorway, he fiddles with his fingers for a moment, and steps into the darkness that sits before him. His eyes have long since adjusted to the darkness around him, and he can make out the mound under the blankets, snoring softly in deep slumber, the slight rise and fall of his chest as he breaths in and out.

He touches his lips lightly and chokes on a breath.

Hesitantly, he reaches out into the silence, and pokes the solid arm nearest him. When he gains no response to the first one, he does it again, a bit harder then the first. This one gains him a response, the soft snores cut off in a snort, and he can see his brothers eyes open to see what the disturbance was.

"G—Gabriel?"

The Messenger sucks in a rushed breath. "Raph, can I sleep with you?" if he hadn't asked then he would never have built the courage back up again.

When there's no immediate reply, he prepares himself for the denial, and closes his eyes tightly to avoid seeing the wave of dismissal given to him.

"Sure."

He opens his eyes, his brother has lifted the side of his duvet for him and he darts forward, sliding in under the blankets and against his side as quick as he could, and he settles against him as close as he can manage. A warm arm curls around his back and pulls him close, as his older brother settles back against his pillows again, fingers scratch soothingly at his arm. "What happened, baby brother?"

"I had a bad dream."

"Those are the worst, aren't they?"

He nods against his brothers chest, listening to the beating of his heart and the thrum of his grace under his skin, it's a soothing sound.

"You're safe here, baby brother, no one shall ever harm you like that again."

"It was like he was here."

Warm lips press to the side of his head. "He would have to go through all of us first. It would be an unsuccessful attempt. We've got you now, baby brother."

He licks his lips and nuzzles against his older brother. "I love you, big brother."

"And I you, with all my heart."

…

Lucifer slept on his back. In one position. For the entire night.

Which made it easy to know when his fledgling had a bad dream. When Akeelah has bad dreams she seeks physical comfort, and will touch as much of you as she possibly can, and will lay in the oddest positions if it means she has to.

He knows she's had a bad dream when she crawls up to lay on his chest, completely and wholly, curling up on his front like she's a small kitten, and she clutches at his tunic in a tight little fist.

The Morningstar rubs at her back lightly, pulled from sleeps grasp at the sudden weight of her laying on top of him, and whispers into the dark. "Did you have a bad dream?"

She nods against his shoulder.

"I've got you, little bird, it's alright."

…

He gives a soft whine when the memories of his tortures return in the middle of the night, and the archangel next to him listens, even in sleep, for the sign of a nightmare coming on.

When Michael hears the soft whine, he lifts the blankets off him quickly, and crosses to his bed just across the room. Touching his arm lightly, he wakes the Sentry gently, and Gadreel looks up at him with wide eyes.

"Are you still here with me, little 'Reel?"

He receives a nod, but he knows better, and slides in next to him. The Viceroy guides his head to lay on his chest, scratching lightly at his scalp, he hums under his breath like the Healer does. It's calming and sooths the tension building in the younger angel.

"I'm here, 'Reel, I've got you."

"I was there."

He nods. "I know. But you're free now. And you've got a home again."

…

He wakes slightly when he feels the two young boys lift his arms slightly and slide underneath them, coming to rest their heads on his chest, and he sighs sleepily and pulls them close to him under the blankets. They only ever climb into bed with him when they have bad dreams, and he knows they just like being held closed, so he does.

They nuzzle close and grip at his tunic.

He presses his lips to both of their temples and together the three of them fall back to sleep.

…

Oren starts when someone pokes him in the cheek, his eyes flying open, and he immediately reaches for something to use for defense.

"Woah, woah! It's just me!"

He squints in the dark. "Zaves?"

The youngest Virtue rubs at his arm lightly, as though embarrassed. "Can I sleep with you Ori?"

They stare at each other for a minute, and his older brother nods, lifting his blankets up to allow him entrance and he slides in next to him. He curls his arm around the younger angel and pulls him close.

"Were you alone again?"

"There was no one."

"I'm here." He rubs his back and rests his chin on his younger brothers wavy locks. "I'm not going anywhere."


	317. Healers Charge

"Zaveriel."

The fledgling tenses at the call of his name in that sort of tone, it's a tone he's familiar with, it's the one he gets when he's in trouble, and he hasn't even done anything _too _bad this time.

"Turn around, Zaveriel."

Slowly, the fledgling turns, hunched over on himself and tense, as though he believes he stands a chance if he decides to make a break and run for it. He'd never managed to outrun the Healer in his own Infirmary, but he still tries, it'll happen eventually.

He slowly looks up to face his guardian, and points a finger at himself, the Healer is amused at the action and nods his head. "Yes, you." He wags his finger, gesturing for him to come, and he does so begrudgingly. "Come here." He takes the Healers hand when its held out for him.

"What did I say would happen if you ever disrupted another when they were tending to someone, again?"

"Rapha no!" The little one quickly steps back, letting go of his older brothers hand, and reaches back to cover his bottom. "No-No!"

"We are just walking, little one." The archangel bends and lifts him up on his arm, settling him against his front, and continues on walking. "You normally listen to my warnings." He pats his small bottom. "Why not this time?"

Zaves looks up at his guardian. "You been too busy for me, Rapha!" he pouted and leaned forward. "You don't play with me no more!"

He has been rather busy as of late, choosing his Captain, training new students, perhaps he has neglected his duty as a guardian to his fledgling charge.

"I have neglected you, haven't I?"

"I play all by myself, Rapha!"

Raphael chuckles, leaning forward quickly to kiss the tip of his nose, and the fledgling giggles as he scrunches up his face. "Then we shall spend the day together and play as many games as you'd like."

Zaveriel's eyes go wide. "Rapha play with me _all _day!" and throws his arms around the archangel's neck. "You the best!"

He nods at the fledglings excitement, turning for his newly elected Captain, bouncing the fledgling on his arm lightly. "Oren, I trust you will cover things here for me?"

The Virtue Captain nods in assurance. "I've got things here. Go spend time with little brother."

Nodding at his confirmation, the archangel turns to walk them down the steps from the Infirmary, and tickles at his side playfully. "What shall we play first?"


	318. Quality Time

Lucifer stopped short, staring down at the feather before him, a vivid violet color, and bent to pick it up. It was as soft as a petal of a flower, and he ran his finger over the edge and watched the vanes part as he stroked the edge. He knew who this feather belonged to, he knew it like he knew the palm of his hand, and he set his first year books aside as he was overcome by a new mission and he stepped out of his office, closing the door behind him softly. He smiled as he passed his younger choir members in the hall, shaking his head fondly as they darted passed him to their elders for their classes, heading for The Choir's rehearsal room, where he knew that the owner of the feather would be.

Pushing the sliding door open, he stood in the doorway, just to simply watch him. He sat at the piano, playing a tune of his own making, the muscles of his shoulders twitching every so often, and he pushed and pulled to the rhythm.

He smiled, looking down as he stepped into the room, as silent as the night was still, and came to stand behind him. Rubbing his hands over his upper back, massaging his fingers into his shoulders, the piano came to an off beat cut off.

"You must be in such discomfort." He held the feather out for him to see, a shaking hand reached up to take it, twirling it before their eyes for a moment, and closed it within a tight fist. A shaking voice whispered softly in his ear. "They're falling out."

Lucifer frowned, brushing his hand over his dirty blonde hair, pulling his head back into his stomach so they could meet each other's gazes. "They'll grow back again. You're just going through a molt." It dawned on him a moment later. "It's your first molt after having your wings healed, isn't it 'Miah?"

The calm and collected, some might even say 'mellow', choir elder gave a soft whine at the sight of the feather. "Luci, they're falling out."

He hummed softly. "Hey." And ran the fingers of his left hand down his neck. "Hey, look at me, I know they're falling out Jeremiah, I know they are." The Morningstar smiled down at him gently. "But it's just because you're molting them. They're going to grow back. New and vivid."

Jeremiah nodded, absorbing his words for what they were worth, nodding more feverishly as if assuring himself. His archangel rubbed his cheek with his thumb, and he looked back up into those ice blue eyes, they shined in fond amusement.

"Do you want me to groom your wings?"

He thought on it a moment and nodded. "Yes. Yes, that would be nice."

"They must itch."

Jeremiah rolled his shoulders. "They do. And they ache."

"Would you like me to scratch them for you?" he stroked a finger down his throat. "I could rub away the ache."

The choir elder nodded. "I'd like that. I'd like that a lot."

Lucifer smiled, tugged on his shoulder lightly, nodding towards the door. "Come on then. Let's go find a place to stretch out." Jeremiah stands quickly, no angel can deny the offer of having someone groom their wings, especially during a molt, and especially when that other angel was one of the archangels.

The archangel chuckled at the excitement, pulling him into his side when he meets him there, and turns them in the direction of the large sliding doors. Fellow choir angels smile at them as they pass, and they return the gesture in kind, walking side by side down to the entrance of the Pantheon.

Jeremiah look up at him in confusion. "Where are we going?"

"To the Villa."

"The _archangels _Villa?"

Lucifer laughed softly. "Do you know of any other Villa's."

He shakes his head, staring in awe as they approach the gate that opens up to the path that led up to _The Villa_, taking everything in there was to see. Lucifer opened the screen door for him, gesturing for him to enter first, and he steps in cautiously. Hands curl over his shoulders as the archangel steps up behind him

"This way."

He's led down the hall that contains the archangels bedrooms, and is turned into a large cool room, there's a big bed pushed up against a large window. The blankets are all made out, the bed done up nicely, pillows and a few stuffed animals litter the head of the bed. There's a desk on the far right wall and a wardrobe across from it. Lucifer guides him to the bed. "Take off your top and lay down."

"Lay down?"

He nods in amusement. "Yes, lay down."

Jeremiah nods his head absently, pulling his shirt over his head with shaking hands, and crawled forward to lay on the bed. He sighed, closing his eyes, the mattress was as plush as a cloud, the blankets as soft as silk. There was a faint chuckling behind him from the archangel, and the bed dipped as he climbed up to sit next to him, and a cool hand rubbed his back soothingly.

"Do you like my bed?"

The choir elder nodded softly, too comfortable to build up the energy to speak, and hummed softly when the hand began rubbing his back.

"I'm going to release your wings," he scratched lightly at his shoulders. "Alright?"

Jeremiah lay limp over the bed, his eyes closed, arms outstretched at his sides. "Mmmhm."

Lucifer smiles, waving his hand in a semi complicated manner, and vivid purple wings appeared in their current plane. He pulled the closest one down into his lap, scratching a few fingers up under the primaries, smiling at the light groan of comfort it pulls from his choir elder. He sifts through the feathers with the hand he's not using to scratch at the itchy skin under them, pulling the loose ones free and straightening the others, and once that job is done, he just sits back and scratches at the itchy skin.

"Does that feel good, 'Miah?"

The elder nods slightly, it's more of a jerk of his head, his eyes remaining closed. "Mhmm, more to the left, Luci." The Morningstar chuckles lightly and moves his hand. "Here, 'Miah?" the choir angel sighs deeply and jerks his head again. "Are you getting sleepy now?"

Jeremiah barely nods, not even a jerk, just a slight twitch.

"Then go to sleep, little mockingjay, take a good nap."

"Mmmm 'kay 'uci."


	319. Akriel

He stared up at the looming figure of his Infirmary, watching the bodies walking in and out, and turned to his brother.

"They've been running things all on their own?"

"They _were _all on their own. Castiel had killed you, their brothers had taken their own lives, they were all that was left."

He nodded again, turning to look back at the building he had built from the ground up, with his own bare hands and his grace. "Brother, I will not be returning to the Villa for a bit of time, I have things that I must tend to."

"I understand, little brother, take care of your flock."

…

His healers smiled at his return, sharing soft welcomes and warm hugs as he passed through his Infirmary, and he took them all with open arms. He had his sights on only one though, the one who sat in the chair next to the bed further down his path, leaning forward on his elbows, face buried in his hands.

One of the two who had taken over his duties while he was with The Void, who had taken over the combined duties of their brothers in their self-imposed absence, who had kept his Infirmary from crumbling to it's foundations when he couldn't keep it standing himself.

He knelt silently before the unmoving angel, his worn Virtue, and reached out to touch a hand to the one hiding his face from him. "Akriel?"

The trauma specialist stiffened, inhaling quickly, and fingers slid away from his eyes as he peered up at his archangel. "I apologize." He rubbed his hands over his face, rubbed at his eyes, and fell back into his hands again. He rubbed his hand over his head gently. "What for?" his Virtue sighed deeply, a tired sigh, the sigh of someone who hadn't had a good nights rest for many, _many_, moons. "For sitting here when there are patients who need tending to."

"There is no need to apologize for needing to rest your eyes. Taking care of others is just as important as taking care of yourself."

He curled his nimble fingers around the younger angel's wrist. "Let me see you." He managed to pull the one hand away, and the other fell with it, and the sight that greeted his eyes took his breath away.

Deep, deep, bruises shadowed under his eyes. His face much paler then it usually was. His hair askew and untamed. This was the price that was paid for their abandonment.

"Oh, my dearest little Akriel, you've held the weight of the world on your shoulders for so long." He caresses the younger angels cheek. "But I am here to take it back." Their eyes lock for a long moment. "Tell me what ails you, my little healer, I will take care of you."

Akriel watches him carefully, as though looking for deceit, and nodded when he found none. "I am…I am so _tired_."

"Then let's get you to bed." He stands once more, and holds a hand out for his Virtue to take, Akriel eyes the hand for a moment before he reaches out to take it. Their fingers twine together and Raphael hums in acknowledgement, squeezing the youngers fingers fondly for a moment, as he guides him off to the passage carved into the side of the Infirmary, to a set of stairs, that leads to the loft above. "You need a good sleep. Nice and long. You've done more then enough. Let's get you taken care of now."

He leads him up the winding stairs, into the warm lounging room of their loft, over the soft carpets to the hall straight ahead, where their bedrooms lay for the waiting.

Akriel's room is tidy, a bit scuffled, but tidy. There was a well-used oak desk pushed under the window, piles and piles of books cluttered over the surface, tunics hung over the back of the wooden chair turned afar from the desk. Armor was cluttered in the far corner, a sword leaning against the stone wall to the right of the desk, and he shook his head at the sight of it all.

"Come on, kick off your boots." His Virtue nods, kicking his boots off sluggishly, squeezing his fingers to keep him steady. Raphael guides him to his bed, pulling down the covers, and pushes him down with a gentle ease. "Get into bed. Under the covers. Come on."

Akriel lets go of his hand, crawling forward onto his soft mattress, collapsing over top of his pillow. He heaves a deep sigh, closing his eyes lightly, sinking into the fluff of his pillow. His archangel smiles, he knows he is, and sits on the edge of his bed as he pulls the blankets up over his back. He sighs in comfort when fingers stroke down the back of his head. "You've done more then enough, my little one, I'll take it from here."

"Missed you."

Raphael smiles softly, scratching at the back of his Virtues head. "I missed you too. I'm back now. And I'm not going anywhere ever again."

His poor little Virtue, having had to do the job of six individuals, on only one others aid, for so long. He sits there for as long as it takes, though it doesn't take long at all, for his Virtue to drift off to sleep, finally allow himself to let go of the wakeful world. Akriel looks so peaceful in his sleep, as though the weight of the world has been lifted from his shoulders, and perhaps, it really has been.

The archangel strokes his fingers through his medium length hair, smiling down at him as he sleeps so peacefully, vowing to ensure he gets more then enough of it. He wouldn't be doing much of anything until those bruises under his eyes faded away.

"I don't normally do this," he curled his fingers over the Virtue's forehead. "But you need your rest more than anything at the moment." A faint glow emanated from his fingertips, light blue, a tingling of static electricity. Akriel sighed softly, nuzzling down into his pillow underneath him, what little tension that had remained fell away until there was nothing but peace. He smiled, stroking a finger down his nose, and leaned back.

"One down, four to go."


	320. Helping People

Akriel did not like the Winchesters. He did not like Castiel. They had taken his brothers from him. Taken his Archangel from him. They had taken everything from him. There had only be two Virtues left for the longest time because of their rash and self-centered behavior, and then Father had returned, and with Him came everyone they had lost.

It had taken him and Zed a long time to remember what it was like working with everyone else.

And now, they thought they were important enough to call on _his _charge, the one he had been making so much progress with. The one that was learning to smile more, use their words over their fists, how to let people within her unstable mental fortress. They were still working on emotions, but she was coming along so greatly, they learned what happy was and what sad was. They learned that being in the Garden made her happy. Swimming made her happy. Helping him in the Infirmary made her happy. Seeing dying flowers made her sad. Seeing the sun go down made her sad. When she had torn apart his room after the Mindbreaker's second trial, that had made her sad.

What they wanted, what they wanted was to take all that progress and flush it down the drain, and why shouldn't they. It was them who did all the hard work. It wasn't them who had to bring her down from her highest highs and bring her up from her lowest lows, it wasn't them who had to restrain her when she had her episodes, they didn't do anything.

So, when his archangel had come with the request, he had no reservations on voicing his opinion, refusing the request, until word came down the grape vine that they were going to summon his unstable charge, and that would have caused much more harm to the world then they would ever have understood.

"I do not like this, Raphael." The Healer nodded, taking note of the call of his name, his Virtues only did so when they were truly displeased, in the same manner that a mother calls a child by their full name when they have done wrong. "The progress we've made could be cut back by so much."

Raphael nodded. "I understand, Akriel, but it was her that was requested for this mission they find themselves on, and despite Father giving her the choice, it is hers to make."

They both looked between them, Gzel stood as silently as ever between the two of them, staring ahead in that void that only her eyes could see into, clutching at the Virtue's sleeve. Sam Winchester was speaking to her, they knew that, but they didn't think that she knew that.

Or she was aware and had chosen to ignore him.

"Sammy, she's not listening to ya." Dean Winchester, in all his bravado, cut his younger brother off. He came to stand before them, looking down on the young unstable angel, feeling secure in his intimidation with his seraph standing at his right. Akriel knew better though, they all knew about the flock that Gzel came from, Castiel would not jump between them, no matter how loyal he was to the human, self-preservation was too strong an emotion. "Little missy here, she's gonna be a good little soldier, and she's gonna do what we say."

Both healers watched carefully, as the unstable angel's eyes flit up to look at the human, silence was a thick covering in the room. She stared up at him for a long minute, unblinkingly, as though she was staring into his soul to determine just how much of a threat he was.

And then she turned to look at him. "Do I have to?"

Akriel smiled, pressing his hand into her lower back. "No. If you don't want to, you don't have to."

"But you want to." Dean Winchester cut her off before she could speak again, and her head snapped around to stare at him again, muscles tensed under his hand, and he curled his fingers around her hip to pull her more securely against him. "I can see it. You like beating the shit out of people. You're gonna do what we say."

Gzel stared up at him silently. Akriel always said to user their words. She didn't like this human. But, Akriel said to use their words. Not using their words would make him disappointed. He would say he wasn't, but she knew he was. Gzel didn't want to make Akriel disappointed. His eyes would get sad. Gzel didn't like it when Akriel's eyes got sad.

"No." She nodded, as if to assure herself. "No, I don't want to." She looked up at the Healer and he smiled down at her. "I don't like fighting people." And then Gzel looked up to her guardian. "I like to help people." Gzel liked helping Akriel help people. "I like helping Akriel help people."

"_Akriel _is a whimp kid. You don't wanna be a whimp, do ya?" Dean Winchester shook his head. "No, you'll listen, and do what we tell you to do when we tell you."

"I said, no." Gzel stared up at him. "Akriel says that if I say 'no' then I don't have to do it."

"What does he know?" The hunter pointed a finger at the Virtue in dismissal. "He puts Band-Aids on peoples booboos. You like action. You want to be in the action."

"Akriel does more than that." Gzel tilted her head. "Akriel helps people. I want to help people. Gzel wants to be like Akriel and help people."

"He's a coward, kid, didn't even protect his own people when they killed themselves."

"That was Castiel's fault."

"But Cas did something about it, what did your guy do?" Dean snorted. "Nothin. Come on and just help us."

Gzel went tense under him. "Akriel's good." He shared a look with his archangel. "I'm only supposed to fight bad people."

"From what I've heard, your brains not completely in tune with what good and bad are, so I can see why you'd be a little confused."

"My brains not bad!" Gzel's eyes darkened. "Akriel's strong! Akriel's nice! Akriel helps people! But you—you hurt people! You _hurt _Akriel!" She darted forward, with a speed that none of them had been prepared for and jumped up on the hunter before her. She wrapped her legs around his middle, an arm around his neck, and brought her closed fist down on the humans head as harshly as she could.

Dean Winchester backed away from them, trying to shake the unstable modified angel off, attempting to duck under her blows. Sam Winchester was calling out her name, trying to be placating, not sure on whether he should grab her or not. Castiel had his angel blade in hand, but noticeably made no indication that he was going to try and pry the unstable angel off of his human, and Dean Winchester called _him _the coward.

Raphael nodded when he turned for permission, noticeably waiting a moment longer than necessary, and Akriel stepped forward.

"Heyheyhey!" He wrapped his arms around her waist and tugged. "Let go, let go Gzel, remember what we talked about. We're using our words, remember, let's use our words."

"I _did_! I said _no_!"

"And we're going to go home now, you did say no, you're doing so good Gzel, so good. Don't let him break your good streak."

Gzel looked down at him, fist posed for another blow. "Akriel?"

"I'm here, G, come down for me?" He tightened his grip around her waist, and she nodded, uncurling from the hunter, allowing the Virtue to set her back to her feet, and she leaned back against his chest.

She looked up at him. "Sorry." He smiled and poked her on the nose. "We'll talk later. It's not okay. But we're still working on it." The medic curled his arm around her lower back. "You're not in trouble. We'll talk once we get home."

"Okay, Akriel."

Akriel glared at the hunter from over his charge's head. "The _coward _says, '_you're welcome_'."


	321. Zed

He took note of the lack of ingredients rather quickly, upon returning to his Infirmary down below, he knew where to look for the other. The only one who would have a need in gathering more of those ingredients, and there was only one place they would go, and so he slowly made his way down the hall, passing his office, to the atrium outback. Though not nearly as impressive as the Garden was, their little garden was beautiful in it's own right, full of lush green plants and bright colorful flowers.

Stepping out into the bright sunlight, he spotted him immediately, bent over a bush of berries picking a bundle of blue ones. He crosses silently over the path that winds through the atrium, coming to stand behind him, pressing a hand between his warm shoulders.

"How long have you been out here?" The muscles under his hand tense, hands pausing in their motions, and he feels the younger healer take a deep breath, heaving a great sigh, and return to his work. "Zed?"

There's another sigh, harsher then the first, and he throws his hand full of berries down, letting them sprawl throughout the grass, all his effort and time gone to waste in such a short amount of time. He closes the rounded wicker basket and comes to stand, climbing to his feet, joints pop as he does, indicating just how long he'd been bent over like he had been.

"Leave me be." His apothecary ducks out from under his hand and turns back to the path leading back into the Infirmary. He shakes his head, unable to leave him to his own, and reaches out to catch his arm. "Zed, talk to me."

The basket drops from his grasp, its contents spilling out to the ground underneath it, as the Virtue spins around and yanks his arm free. "You _left _us." He snarls. "What's there to _talk _about?"

He nods, not uttering a word, to allow the younger angel to get his troubles off his chest, so then he may take care of him.

"We did _your _job! We did _all _of your jobs!" Zed ran a shaking over his forehead, wiping away the glistening sweat, glaring with an anger that burns deep in his belly. "And you expect things to return to _normal_?"

"I cannot begin to express my sorrow at the events that you'd been forced through." He speaks calmly, carefully, and doesn't make any sudden movements. "You must be so exhausted."

"I'm so tired."

Raphael reaches for him in that moment, pleased when he doesn't pull away this time, and steps forward. "Then let's get you some rest."

Zed shakes his head slowly. "I have to pick more herbs. I'm out."

"I will restock your inventory myself, you, you will get some much needed, well earned, rest."

The Virtue seems unconvinced, clearly not used to having aid anymore, and he curls his fingers around his shoulder gently, and digs in just right. Zed sighs deeply, closing his eyes for a moment, shoulders sore from being bent over for so long. "How does that sound? The cool shade of your room, the softness of your bed, skilled fingers working those knots from your shoulders. Doesn't that sound nice?"

"I should be mad at you."

"I wouldn't expect anything less."

Zed stares at him for a moment. "I should _hate _you."

"It would be an understandable, but sorrowful, feeling."

The worn Virtue sighs deeply, nodding his head slightly. "That does sound nice."

Raphael smiles, digging his fingers in again, and steps closer. "Then what's keeping you?"

His apothecary watches him for a moment, and nods again. "That sounds very nice." The Healer smiles at him, coming to stand at his side, winding his arm around his shoulders, and begins to guide him down the pathway to the Infirmary. "Then let's get you inside, my little apothecary."

They walked through the busy Infirmary side by side, pausing only once for the archangel to pick up a soft rag and a small basin of cool water, heading for the stairs that led up to the loft above them. Akriel's door was still closed when they walked passed it, and he smiled at the knowledge that his trauma specialist was still sleeping blissfully away, and they turned the corner of a doorway into another room.

Zed's room was much less as tidy as Akriel's was, books strewn about, hanging open over top of one another, jars and vials and bottles were strewn about everywhere, ingredients arranged in the young apothecary's unorganized-organized way. His armor was hanging haphazardly over the chair at his desk, a curved sword leaned against the wooden leg, medicine bag hung over the back.

He squeezes the back of his Virtues neck. "Take your shirt off."

Zed does so without protest, lazily raising his arms as he tugs his tunic up over his head, and deposits it on the floor under him. He eyes his bed with lust, not waiting for the command to do so, and climbs up to curl up amid his fluffy pillows.

Setting the small basin on the small bedside table, he soaks the rag in the cool water, wrings out the excess, and rubs it over the Virtues warm shoulders. Zed sighs in comfort, having stood bent over under the beating sun for so long, and closes his eyes when his archangel soaks the rag again, wrings it out, and wipes it over his face. It's cool relief from the burning heat. The rag runs over his lower back, down his shoulders and over his arms, over the back of his neck, around his ears, it's so cool and comforting that the tension slowly falls from his shoulders.

The rags set aside, and long nimble fingers pick up his hand, thumbs dig into the back of his hand, then into his palm, rubbing the soreness and tension away. The fingers travel up his arm, digging into the stained muscles and rubbing away the ache and tension, they spread over his shoulders and the heels of two palms dig in deeply.

Zed groans in comfort, sinking into his mattress, his pillow. It feels so good. His archangel knows all the right spots. He wants to be angry, he wants to be mad at him, but he can't, not when he makes him feel so good. Not when he rubs at his back and shoulders, rubbing away the tension and the ache, not when he makes him as comfortable as he is.

"Does that feel better, Z?"

"Mhmm." He nods sluggishly against his pillow. "Feels very good."

"Go to sleep, my little healer." Fingers massage the back of his neck so comfortably. "Let yourself have some rest."

"'Otta work."

"The only thing you must do is sleep."

"Mhmmm….okay….."


	322. Training

"I'm gonna beat you!"

"I don't think so."

They stared at each other, rising and falling in sync, sweat beading on their foreheads as they rounded fifty pushups and kept climbing higher. Their training had long since become a common sight among the others in the training field, their relationship a growing one with the more time they spent together, a companionable humor growing between them.

"You're going to give out first, old man!"

"I'm as spry as a youngling."

When it became evident that he wasn't going to be dropping out, upon rounding one hundred and ten pushups, his young companion came to a halt, breathing deeply from the exertion, and fell to her knees. The elder kept going, their goal having been two hundred, laughing in his triumph. She smiled widely, climbing up to her feet, she hopped quickly to his side.

"You're just being a sore loser, now." He chuckled, grunting slightly at the added weight as she climbed up to sit on his back, adjusting his arms slightly, he lowered himself and rose again, falling back into the steady rhythm. She turned, realigning herself, laying across his back. She crossed her arms around his neck lightly and rested her chin on his shoulder. "But you're as spry as a youngling. This should be easy for you."

"I never said it was troublesome." He turned slightly, pecking her cheek fondly, and he felt her smile against his cheek. "I just said you're being a sore loser."

"I am not!"

"Then why are you laying over me?"

She giggled lightly. "You're just comfortable."

The young one carefully turned around, laying back against him, her head resting on his lower back as he legs bent over his shoulders, bare feet dangling in his line of sight.

Coming to two hundred even, he stopped falling, and held himself up for a moment to catch his breath. She yelped excitedly when he lowered himself to his knees, careful to keep himself a flat surface for her, and curled his fingers around her ankles as he climbed back to his feet.

"Nis!" She laughed as she dangled down his back. "Put me down!"

"But I thought I was comfortable, Gzel."

"Not like this!"

He laughed softly, tugging her upwards, she arched her back as she pulled herself forward, coming to rest peacefully on his shoulders. Gzel leaned forward, resting her chin on his head, as he turned them in the direction of the sparring partners.

"How much longer until Akriel comes to retrieve you?"

"Thirty minutes."

The Power Captain nods, humming under his breath. "Do you want to spar?"

"Yes!"


	323. Broken and Beautiful

He sighed in relief when he finally found her, after a good hour of searching and wallowing in his concern, he finally checked the one place he had not thought to look for her until that moment, and there she sat.

He watched her for a moment as she sat there in the water, pooling around her legs, soaking her lower half. She sat there unmoving, shoulders hunched inward. Something had happened and he doesn't know what it is.

Sighing again, he steps into the dim washroom, treading into the water beside her to take the spot next to her. He ignores the water soaking into his pants, sitting next to his young charge, falling into the same companionable silence. She sniffles slightly, lifting a pruned hand up out of the water, to examine the wrinkles.

"Gzel?"

She sucks in a breath, letting her hand drop back into the water, splashing it all around. "I'm sorry, Akriel."

"For what?"

The younger angel stared down at the rippling water, twiddling her thumbs under the surface, and heaved a deep sigh. "That I'm so broken."

He nods lightly, thinking his words over very carefully, lest this touchy situation blow up drastically. "You're not broken." The Virtue bends his legs upwards, crossing them under him, and he settles back onto his hands. "You're a bit bent." He shakes his head. "But most certainly not broken."

"Yea, I am." The young one sighs deeply, pulling her knees up, soaking her front in the process, and wraps her arms around them as she leans forward to rest her chin on her soaked arms. "I freak out when people touch me. I have—I have episodes. I'm a broken doll, Akriel. I shouldn't…I shouldn't be with you."

"It's not unusual for people to not like being touched. That most certainly doesn't make you broken." He turns to look at her, and she ducks behind her arm, hiding away from what she knows will be a concerned glance, she doesn't deserve his concern. She didn't deserve Akriel's concern. She didn't deserve having Akriel care so much. She didn't deserve Akriel. "And, yes, you have episodes. But they're not as frequent as they once were, are they Gzel?"

She shrugs, and Akriel shakes his head, nudging her with his elbow. "Are they?"

"No."

"So, you're not broken, and trust me," he nudges her arm again. "I know all about broken people." He sat back again. "And, I'd beg to differ. You deserve to be happy, Gzel, you deserve to feel wanted."

Gzel finally looks up at him. "You want me? Even though I'm so messed up?"

The trauma specialist smiles at her. "I wouldn't spend half as much time with you as I do, if I didn't." He lifts his arm for her, and Gzel stares for a moment, before a smile comes over her sullen features, and she leans over to press herself into his side. "And, everybody's a little messed up, you're not the only one."

Akriel smiles, leaning over to press his lips to her dark hair. "And, you're _perfect_ just the way you are." She smiles against his shoulder. Chuckling, the Virtue pulls them both back, laying in the warm water of the lake-esque pool. Gzel yelps softly, stiffening against his side, and breaths out a giggle. "Akriel, we're gonna get all wet."

"We're _already _all wet."

She smiles, staring up at the gem covered rock ceiling, her head cushioned against his arm. She reaches up with her hand, reaching for his, and twines their fingers together.

"What brought this on?"

Gzel sighs, looking down at her hand, resting peacefully against her belly. "I don't know…I just feel broken sometimes…..."

The Virtue looks over at her. "Why?"

"I don't know. Because I am. I freak out sometimes and I hear things and I can get violent and then be normal again."

"That doesn't make you broken. It makes you interesting."

It makes her smile, as she turns to look up at him, and he returns the smile with one of his own. "It makes me interesting?"

"Keeps me on my toes."

She stares up at him, her eyes shining. "You don't think I'm broken?"

Akriel shakes his head, leaning over to kiss her nose lightly. "I don't. I love having you at my side. You make my life interesting." Gzel scrunches her face up, leaning away from him, and he chuckles as he turns back around to lay his head on his free arm. "I wouldn't have you any other way."

She scoots closer, leaning against his side, tugging his arm down around her shoulder to rest on her chest. He rubs his thumb over the back of her hand. "I love you, Akriel."

"I love you to, Gzel." He squeezes her close for a moment. "Very much."


	324. Indirect Direct Abandonment

There was nothing like having a steaming bowl of stew on a cold winters night, and he stared down at it with longing as he made his way from the bubbling cauldron hanging over the fire to the wooden table just across the way, far enough to keep them safe from the roaring flames but close enough that the heat kept them warm, and he set it down on the table as he climbed into his spot on the bench seat. Zed and Puriel parted for him, moving to the side to allow him the spot.

Touching a hand to the side of his bowl, he cooled it softly with his grace, ensuring that he would not burn his tongue at the first bite.

"Oren, when are you going to allow us to speak to him again?"

He looked up from his tasty stew. "My reprimand is for two weeks. So, four more days."

Ephraim lowered his hand, letting the spoonful of stew settle back into his own bowl, frowning slightly at the notion that this would continue on longer than it already had. Their younger brother had pestered their Captain all day on the first day of his imposed punishment, chattering and asking questions one right after the other, deflating with every question that went without response. Oren had heard his questions, heard him talking to him, and had willingly ignored him at every passing, acting as though he was not there.

"Are you sure it is safe to take it out that long?"

After the first three days of following their Captain around and gaining no acknowledgement, he had turned to them, trying as hard as he might to gain any semblance of acknowledgement from any one of them, and they being under strict orders to make no notion that they knew him to be there, turned away from him every time despite what they may desire.

"He could have gotten himself killed, or harmed another innocent life, he disobeyed me when he took my sword." He looked back down to his bowl. "He's only lucky I _found _it." Then he looked back up, between each of them individually, and stared at them long enough that he knew his intent was clear. "Not a word for four more days."

They nodded, unwillingly, to his command and returned to their warm bowls of stew.

The others exchanged looks over their Captain's head, Zaves hadn't come to the Infirmary today, and they worried as to what he may be doing.

They ate in silence for some time, the only sound echoing around them being the crackling of the wood in the fire and metal spoons rubbing against wooden bowls, and then they were joined by a little guest.

She appeared at the top of the stairs that led up from the Infirmary below, to the Loft above, walking silently over the stone floors and soft carpets. They turned to greet her and fell silent at the expression that adorned her face. Zed turned in his seat, lifting her under the arms when she came to stand behind him and Oren, setting her up on the bench between them. The fledgling thanked him softly and turned to glare at his Captain with the ferocity of a fledgling scorned, Oren smiled softly in greeting.

"Hello, little Akeelah."

The fledgling glared at him silently, leaned forward between them, and swiped his bowl of stew off the table down into his lap.

Oren jumped from his seat, hands raised slightly, as he was covered in warm thick stew.

"Akeelah!"

"You better say you're sorry!" She pointed a finger up at him. "You better say sorry!"

Zed tapped her shoulder and she turned to look at him. "Sorry for what, little friend?"

"Zaves was cryin'!"

The apothecary frowned in concern. "He was crying?"

"Yea! 'Cause this meanie wasn't talkin' to 'im!" She pointed at the Virtues Captain angrily. "You're bein' mean! You made him cry!"

Oren turned to look at her with heat in his eyes, and carefully pulled his soiled tunic up over his head, it ridded him of most of the mess, but he couldn't very take off his trousers in front of a small impressionable fledgling. "He had to know there would be consequences for taking my things without my permission."

"You're so stupid!" She jumped down from the bench, ignoring the others as they watched her, and shoved their Captain as hard as she could in the waist, causing him to stumble back a step. "I don' get why he likes you so much!" She pointed at him again. "You better say somethin' to him or Imma tell him never ta talk to you again!"

With her message being shared, the fledgling turned and waved at the others, as she turned on her heel and calmly led herself out.

Akriel watched her disappear around the corner as she hopped down the steps back to the Infirmary a floor below and smiled slightly at her attitude and spunk. "She's a _good_ friend."

_"Akriel!"_

"What?" The specialist raised his hand and shrugged his shoulders. "She is." He gathered up his utensils and stood from his place on the opposing bench. "I told you this was a bad idea and you didn't listen. Now you've made him cry. I understand where you were coming from, but this was too far, for how long it's been."

He crossed around him, to wash his bowl and spoon in the sudsy basin of water sitting on the counter just across the room. Akriel washed his things and set them on the towel to dry, turning back around as he dried his hands with a thick cloth, eyes searching for those of his Captain.

"Zaves worst fear is being abandoned again. Not acknowledging his presence so blatantly is abandoning him in the most indirect direct ways. And trust me when I say, as a specialist for mental trauma, you are doing far more harm then you are good." He tossed the cloth onto the counter next to him and pushed himself forward. "You may continue to ignore him for four more days, but I will not, if he ventures back into the Infirmary for some ungodly reason and chooses to try and talk to me, I will respond in kind."

Oren narrowed his eyes slightly. "Are you saying you'll disobey my order?"

"Not in the slightest." Akriel shook his head, crossing his arms loosely, look down to his brothers stew soiled clothing. "I am saying that I will do my job as the mental trauma specialist and prevent him from falling into himself as you all pretend he does not exist."

…

"Ak?" The voice behind him is so small, so soft, so broken. It's so prepared for the let down of being ignored again. "Please talk to me! Please! I'm sorry I touched Oren's sword! I promise! Please talk to me again!"

The trauma specialist sets his things down, smiling as he turns, just as he said he would, and places both hands over the younger angels shoulders. "Yes, baby brother?" Those silver-green eyes widen at the acknowledgement of his presence. "What can I do for you?"

Zaveriel sniffles softly, jumping forward into his older brothers chest, wrapping his arms around his middle as tightly as he could. The older angel smiles slightly, curling his arms around his quivering form, rubbing at his back softly. "It's okay, baby brother, there, there."

The little messenger uncurls from him, tugging him forward as he crosses quickly to the apothecary's station, leaning over the work bench.

"Zed?"

His older brother glances up from the pot he'd been churning. "Yes, little whirlwind?"

At his response, Zaveriel turned for their Captain, letting go of Akriel's tunic and leaving Zed's response behind, running across the Infirmary to where Oren stood folding the tunics that had just been dried for the incoming patients.

He grabbed at the back of his older brothers tunic, hope filling him. "Ori?" his older brother looked over at the call of his name, over his shoulder at him, and he dropped the tunic in favor of turning in his spot. Zaves whined softly when his arms curled around him, pulling him in close, Oren pressed his lips against the top of his head. "Never touch my sword again, Zavie, promise me." He nodded against his brothers shoulder. "Do you know how much it hurts me to do that to you? To cause you so much pain?"

"I'm sorry for taking your sword, Ori."

"It's okay. I'm sorry for ignoring you."


	325. Friends to Enemies

Him and Abraxos were watching their squadrons spar together when the little one appeared. A little head of wild dirty blonde curls bobbed through the sparing partners towards the duo they had been surveying closely, it was one of those days when they sifted through their squadrons for those that were eligible for promotion in the ranks, and they watched it make it's way through the crowd.

"Momma! Momma!" a little body rams into the back of her legs, little arms winding around her waist, and Sasha softens his stance at the interruption. She turns slightly, looking down at the little one wrapped around her waist, and lowers her fists in surprise. "Lyra?" She turns, kneeling to look her in the eyes, frowning at the tears that shine in her baby's eyes. "Aren't you supposed to be with Papa and Izar?"

The little demigodling sniffles pitifully and jumps forward to wrap her arms around her mother's neck, Akeelah sighs, wrapping her in her arms, as she returns to a standing position. "What happened, baby Ly?"

"H-Hapi di-didn't co-come!"

"Hapi didn't come to your playdate?" Lyra shook her head, tears still dripping from her eyes, sparkling like shooting stars. "N-No, momma, h-he said he di-didn' wa-wanna play w-with a gi-girl, h-he wanna p-play with I-Izar!"

The warrior in training frowned slightly, caressing her daughters cheek, wiping away the tears with gentle fingers. "What did your brother say?" She couldn't imagine that he had taken that sitting down. Lyra and Izar were inseparable, they did everything together, and that included playing with friends during playdates. Her baby girl sniffled rubbing her nose with the back of her right hand. "I s-said it was o-okay 'cause I di-didn't want I-Iz to be sa-sad too." Bless her twins hearts, they were truly too good for this world, she leaned forward and kissed her little nose, Lyra gave her a watery giggle in return to the gesture. "Momma's gonna talk to Horus, okay?" No one made her baby cry. No one.

She spared a glance to her greatest friend, and Sasha nodded at her silent request, she smiled back down to her little daughter. "Do you want to help momma beat up Uncle Sasha?" Lyra smiled, wiping her tears away, and nodded excitedly. She leaned back against her chest when momma turned her around in her arms, her hands curled around her middle, and waved up at her uncle.

Sasha smiled and returned her waved greeting.

Momma's braids rub against her cheek. "Raise your fists up, just like momma showed you." The little fledgling demigod raises her little fists up, into the position of a seasoned warrior in training, and Nisroc smiles at the sight of it, ducking down into his hand to hide it, conveniently having the need to rub at his mouth. "Ready, baby?" Lyra nods, taking on the _'warrior face' _that her and her twin brother take up when helping momma and Uncle Sasha train.

"Which hand is your right hand?" she raises a tiny little fist over her head. "This one, momma!" Warm lips kiss her cheek. "Good, baby, right hook into his tummy."

She swings back, and thrusts her fist forward, into his stomach. The punch is a light one, the little thing being the equivalent of a three year old, not much power behind the punch. But Sasha plays it up, he's a very good Uncle and godfather, and gasps an exaggerated gasp, pretending the breath has been knocked from him, bending over on himself.

"Did I get him good, momma?"

"You sure did, baby, you got him so good." She presses another kiss to her cheek. "Which one's you left hand?"

The other fist is thrust in the air. "This one is momma!"

"You're so smart, baby girl." She lifts her slightly, hands under her arms. "Left hook to his cheek." Lyra giggles when she throws her fist, and he spins around dramatically, holding both hands to his left cheek. Sasha makes a show of holding his hands up in surrender when she raises her little fists again, and she giggles brightly. "Sorry for gettin'ya Uncle Sasha!"

"You got me good!" He rubs his cheek playfully. "That one hurt."

"Imma strong girl, Uncle Sasha!"

"You sure are, little Ly." He leaned forward. "Will you kiss it better?" He smiles when the little demigod leans forward in her momma's hold and little warm lips press against his cheek. "Better, Uncle Sasha?"

The male trainee smiles, leaning forward to kiss her cheek in return for her little smooch of love. "I feel much better, little Ly."

He shakes his head fondly, finally taking it as his moment to step in, his trainees need to return to their sparing, even if their interruption is this adorable little demigodling. Nisroc steps forward, arms crossed loosely, and they turn to look up at him as he approaches, Abraxos snickering in amusement behind him.

Lyra smiles up at him brightly, waving a little hand in his direction. "Hi, Uncle Nis!" He smiles and ducks down for her. "Are you interrupting my training, little Ly?"

"Who?" She presses a little hand to her chest in shock. "Me?"

"Yes, _you_?" He glances at her mother for permission before curling his fingers under her arms and lifting her from her mother's arms. Lyra giggles adorably as he lifts her up, leaning back slightly, to lift her above his head. "It was a trick question. I know you are." He lowers her slightly, kissing the little bit of her belly that's revealed when her small tunic rides up slightly, she giggles brightly and squirms around. He settles her against his front and pokes her nose. "Why don't you come with me for a while until your momma is finished."

Lyra nods happily, previous woes forgotten in their presence. "Okay Uncle Nis!"

The Captain smiles at his two trainees, nodding as they return to their actual sparing match, walking off with the young demigodling sitting on his arm. Lyra sighs softly, resting against his shoulder, her forehead rubbing against the side of his neck, curls rubbing against his ear.

Nisroc pats her bottom softly. "Talk to me, little champion." He bounces her slightly on his arm to rouse her. "Tell Uncle Nis what troubles your little mind."

"Uncle Nis, I'm fun, right?" Her bright starry eyes gaze up at him imploringly, little lip jutted out in a cute little pout, and he chuckles at the sight of it. "Put that little lip away." He pokes her nose and she smiles at him. "I think you're _very _fun. Why do you ask?"

"Hapi said that girls can' play fun games!"

"Well, this little Hapi doesn't know what he's missing, you're a great playmate to have."

She curls her arm up over his shoulder, smiling as she turns to watch the warriors train as they walk through them, Abraxos making his way back to their side from the other direction. Her curls bounce with every step they make, rub against his cheek when she turns her heard to watch those they walk passed, and she leans upwards to kiss his cheek. "You're a fun playmate too, Uncle Nis."

"What about me?" She turns at the new voice, smiling at her other uncle, he returns the smile as he comes to stand before them. "Am I a fun playmate too?"

Lyra giggles softly and leans forward, fingers curling in Nisroc's tunic as she pushes away from him, and Abraxos turns his head slightly for her to kiss his cheek too. "You're really fun to, Uncle Rax!"


	326. Ephraim

**AN: So I've decided to expand on the world of Living Among Giants and give the others their own stories too! As you can tell lol!**

He knew who his next well intended target was as he stepped out of Zed's room, cracking the door behind him, his soft snores rumbling from within. He checked on Akriel on his way down the hall, still fast asleep, his grace like a strong sleeping drought when he needed it to be, he smiled as he stepped down the stone stairs carved into the wall of his Infirmary, making his way down from the Loft to the Infirmary floor below.

The other angel, the one he sought for, was standing at a rather long table beside an opened cupboard folding plain cleaned tunics that they used for their patients. Distracted by his doings, hands going through the motions as naturally as one could, watching himself work with every passing tunic.

The Archangel finds himself across the room sooner then he intended, and he calls out softly when he appears to stand at his shoulder. "Ephraim, can I have a word with you in my office?"

His Virtue stiffens, they all know what it means when the Healer asks one to have a word with him in his office, no one wants to have a word with him in his office. He sets the folded tunic down carefully, nodding, as he ducks to turn and head for the direction of his Archangel's office. His presence follows behind him, walking in step with him, and soon enough he stands in the middle of the archangel's office as the door clicks shut behind him.

A hand settles on his shoulder and he flinches, keeping his eyes trained on the floor, as he's turned in the direction of one of the seats on the opposing side of the Healer's massive oak desk. "Sit with me." Ephraim nods rigidly, stepping out from under his hand as he makes his way to his seat, sitting tenderly on the chair. There's only one way to make even the mightiest of Power's feel as though they're a fledgling again and that's sitting in the Healer's office under the guise of him wanting to have a _'word'_.

The chair across from his creaks as his commander sits in it, leaning his staff against the wall behind him, he leans back and crosses his arms over his chest.

"Ephraim, look at me, please." Tentatively, he brings his eyes up, flinching as they meet the gaze of his archangel. "I am disappointed, Ephraim. Very disappointed." His eyes flit back down again. "_Look at me."_ And back up again at the sharp order. "What do I teach, Ephraim?"

He feels like he's a small fledgling again, having been caught fighting with his brothers or being needlessly reckless, staring into his brothers disappointed eyes. Raphael didn't even need to scold, didn't need to bend you over something and burn your rear end, the disappointed gaze he held was enough to bring even the mightiest of the Power's to his knees. He's seen Nisroc quell under his disappointed gaze before, personally, he's seen _Gabriel _quell under it, it was just that powerful.

"Ephraim."

The medic licks his lips. "You teach us to heal."

"I do." He nods slightly. "And what is my number one rule for me teaching others my craft?"

Ephraim licks his lips again. Is it just him, or is it really stuffy in here, he wished his archangel would open the window behind his right shoulder. "For your….For us not to abuse your teachings."

Raphael nods firmly, once more, and taps his fingers over his upper arm. "And what would you say using my teachings to hunt down a fellow brother is?"

He lifts his head slightly, a small ounce of defiance in his stance, he would not have any regrets in past actions. "Castiel is no _brother _of _mine_." He shook his head firmly, one firm jerk, and held his position. "I won't regret hunting _him_ down."

"Ephraim, why would you abuse my teachings in such a way as to hunt down a member of our family so deliberately?"

The Virtue leans forward, slamming his hand down on the desk, his temper taking hold for a moment and his Archangel blinks in surprise at the display of his rarely seen temper. "He _killed _you!" Ephraim shakes his head again, another angry jerk. "He _took _you from us!"

Raphael frowned lightly. "You sought him out because of _me_?" And tilted his head slightly. "Is that what you're saying?"

"You were the _only _thing we had left!" His Virtue throws himself back against the backrest of his chair.

The archangel's eyebrows met. "Explain yourself."

"_Everything_ was falling apart around us, crashing to our feet, our family _tearing_ itself apart." Ephraim spit to his feet. "_No thanks to him_." And his eyes glared at the thought of him with such intensity he had never really seen from his gentle, soft spoken, Ephraim before. "And you were the only _stable _thing we had left for _hope_." His fists clenched tightly. "_And, he took that from us." _He fell silent under his harsh breathing, his chest heavying from the exertion, tears of anger having gathered in his eyes. It was rare to see his gentle Virtue get so angry over something that seemed so mundane.

He hadn't truly understood what had happened, when he'd been told about his Virtues doings after Father had brought them back and they fixed what had been broken between them, he only remembered the pain he felt.

But coming to the realization of the pain _they _felt that pain was worse then any wound he would ever gain.

"You were the _only_ thing keeping us. Our rock in the middle of a tumultuous sea. The glue that kept us from falling apart with the world around us." Ephraim shakes his head, leaning forward, burying his face in his hands. "With you _gone…._"

"You fell apart."

He nods. "First it was Oren. He couldn't take it anymore. Having to maintain a visage of normalcy as everything raptured around him. He was drowning long before Castiel took you, having to watch as his close friends and family tore themselves apart, and then when you were gone, he….He couldn't _do _it anymore." Ephraim peers up at him from over his fingers. "Then it was Constantine. Both claiming it was for Castiel, a show of the pain they felt, so he knew what he had done in taking you." He rubs his fingers over his eyes, squeezing them shut. "Then, it was just me and Zed and Akriel. We ran things. Having no time to mourn the loss of our brothers, having to pick up the slack, there were angels that needed taken care of."

"But then you couldn't do it anymore."

Ephraim nods. "We had lost _everything_." He takes a moment. "_He _took _everything _from us. And he wasn't even remorseful. He wasn't sorry. I couldn't…I couldn't _take _it. The way he didn't _care_. How he could cause so much _pain _and _sorrow _and think he could get away with it. He took _everything_." The Virtue looks up to his archangel, eyes red, looking as empty as a shell. "So….So I _hunted _him down. For taking _you_. For taking _Oren. _For taking _Constantine_. I was going to kill him, mercifully, he wouldn't have felt a thing, just a blink and all-consuming peace. He took so many lives, so I was going to take his, before he could take anymore."

He fell silent, his story shared, his explanation made. The younger angel looked down, averting his eyes from the archangels, staring at something on the floor. This particular Virtue had seen it all, the deaths of his brothers, _his _own death, as his remaining brothers slowly closed in on themselves, and had bottled it all up, finding himself all alone despite having two more at his sides.

Raphael rubbed his hand over his chin, taking it all in, allowing his mind to comprehend what he'd been told. He had known that his death would have hit his Virtues harshly, but for it to hit them as harshly as it did, it was concerning and heartbreaking. They relied on him to hold them together, and when he was taken from the equation, they slowly crumbled like a sandcastle under an ocean's wave.

He knew that there was much to be spoken carefully about with Oren and Constantine, a delicate matter that needed handled with great care, and Zed and Akriel needed someone to take care of them now after having taken care of others for as long as they had, but Ephraim was different. Ephraim was the observant one, the one that was always watching, even if you didn't see him. He was an empath, a trait that made him so great at what he did, made him a blessing to have when tending to particularly troubled patients, but it was just as much a blessing as it was a curse. He wouldn't have just suffered under his own emotions, he would have taken the same brunt that his brothers felt, he would have felt the destructive sorrow Oren and Constantine felt when they took their lives, he would have felt Akriel and Zed turning into themselves. He would have felt it all. And, he would have had no one to turn to.

He may have taken his own life, but he had most certainly walked in on the notion of killing Castiel, with no intention of returning should he fail. Ephraim did not take his own life, not directly, and that meant he needed handled with the same great care that Oren and Constantine did.

Not all wounds were visible to the naked eye.

"I am pulling you from your duties." Raphael's fingers came to rest just over his mouth, Ephraim looked up at him, and he continued on. "It is not permanent. I am not taking your position from you. But I am pulling you from your duties. For…For the time being." He nodded in affirmation to his own words for himself. Ephraim nodded, resignation coming over him, his eyes slowly lowering again. "It is not punishment either. I am not punishing you. I am concerned." His hand lowered from his face. "You had no intention of returning from that self-appointed suicide mission." It wasn't a question, he knew the answer to it had it been posed as one, and they both knew that. Still, Ephraim shook his head, accentuating the fact.

His archangel nods again. "No, I am most certainly concerned. You will stay where I can see you and remain where I put you if I cannot be there to watch over you, I am taking you under my care. I spend most of my days down here, we will find you a bed down here, near my station on the Infirmary floor." Ephraim nods silently, look down to his feet, not knowing what more to say. Everything he'd held back for so long had finally revealed itself and now there was nothing left to say. The chair creeks again. "Eph." A warm hand curls over his cheek, tilting his head upwards, his eyes meeting those of his archangel. "I am back now." A warm thumb brushes over his cheek bone. "And, I will _fix _everything."


End file.
